Love is No Big Truth
by eiradis
Summary: Strange friendships, old magic and new love for Severus and Hermione. AU for the last part of Deathly Hallows, rating for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I started posting this story a long time ago on Ashwinder. It isn't complete yet and I'm a slow writer, so after the 17 chapters I have ready now, I can't promise very regular updates. For now, I will upload one chapter every day.

**Chapter 1: The Trick is to Keep Breathing**

The stench of blood hovered over the once green meadow lying between Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest. The grass was trampled, singed, and soaked with gore. There were bodies scattered everywhere, some of them not in one piece anymore.

Hermione averted her eyes from the nauseating scene. She wanted to vomit, to scream, to rage for everyone on the side of the Light who had died, were crippled or mourning over loved ones. Instead, she could only crumble in to a small heap on the ground and stare vacantly into space. The fact that Harry had finally met his arch-villain and sent him back to whatever Hell he had spawned from couldn't penetrate her mind. All she could think about was the terrible price—so many dead, so many families ripped apart to shreds. The image of George staring at his brother's still form made a hiccough rise from her throat. Little Teddy Lupin, left without his parents before he turned one-years-old...just like Harry. She sank her nails into the soil and clawed, extracting clumps of bloodied grass. Snape...

_  
Harry left the Headmaster's Office with glassy eyes, clutching the phial of silvery memories with a death grip. He looked at them and spoke, his words lodged in his throat and coming out in bursts of gasps._

_'He loved her...all this time...he...the doe...Dumbledore...I could never do what he asked of Snape...and I called him a coward!'_

_Hermione reached out to touch his arm, which shook him out of his thoughts. He visibly braced himself and angrily wiped his eyes. He grabbed both Hermione and Ron by the hands and squeezed._

_'There is something that I must do. Alone. If I am really my mother's son, very soon we will live in a world free of Voldemort's poison. Take care, both of you. I could not bear it if I lost both of you.'_

_Harry turned around briskly, leaving them worried and bewildered.  
_

Hermione's analytical mind quickly put together her friend's incoherent speech. The doe must have been Snape's Patronus, which meant that he had helped them. That led her to the conclusion that Dumbledore's murder was not what it appeared to be. If what she thought was true, if the old wizard had asked Snape to deliberately kill him...she clenched her fists. She was sure that the late Headmaster was not a saint, but that just went too far. Apparently, whatever Harry had seen in the Pensieve helped him. Voldemort was dead. So was Snape.

She gasped, snapping back to the present. They had left him behind to lie there in the Shrieking Shack, alone in death as he was in life; it wasn't right. Hermione stood up, wincing from various bruises and cuts, and brushed off her clothes. She smiled wryly; nothing could be done for them, except maybe an Incendio. She walked stiffly towards the Shack, not trusting her Apparition skills. There were other people wandering around the battlefield, faces she recognised, but she continued on. The task she set herself on gave her something to hold on to. Her former Professor deserved her last respects and she is going to pay them before someone else could find his body to make a spectacle out of it, be it as a hero or a villain.

The Shrieking Shack looked dark and menacing. It had at one time been a young werewolf's hideout and a meeting place between a boy and his godfather; it was now a murder scene. Hermione walked in, suddenly fearful of the sight of Snape's body. The man always had such an imposing presence when he was alive; it was difficult to picture him lying in a pool of blood. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and noticed the dark figure sprawled out on the dirt floor as her heart skipped a beat. A faint gurgling sound came from the body. _Oh my God, he is still alive!_ Hermione crossed the room in three long strides and kneeled next to Severus Snape. He was pale as death itself, but still breathing. Her first feelings of relief were replaced by alarm as she saw blood still trickling from the horrendous tears on his throat. She tried one of the diagnostic charms she had learned before and to her immense surprise, it showed there was no venom in his system. It seemed that the Potions Master had not been caught unaware. Deciding it was safe to close his wound, she waved her wand over it. Nothing happened. Cursing under her breath, she tried again. Still nothing. Swaying from fatigue, she braced her free hand on the floor to help regain her strength. Gathering all her power, she focused on her task and waved again. This time she felt a jolt of magic course through her and the reluctant flesh obey. She watched with satisfaction when the torn edges of the artery merged together.

A loud _pop_ of Apparition resounded within the shack and Harry's shout of relief could immediately be heard.

'Hermione! Thank Goodness! I thought I'd lost you! Good thing I remembered to come and collect the Professor's body.'

Hermione felt a hysterical giggle rise in her throat that she was not able to suppress. Turning to Harry, who now looked worried, she managed to say, 'You can call him Snape again, Harry. He is alive. Please, call the mediwizards, I can't...' Blissful darkness embraced her.

The king of all headaches reigned and his domain was in Hermione's head. She groaned and willed herself back into unconsciousness, but was stopped by a cool hand on her forehead.

'Drink this, Miss Granger, and don't even think about opening your eyes before I say so.'

She couldn't quite place the voice, though obeyed nevertheless and opened her mouth. The taste was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. The pounding in her head subsided immediately to a dull throb. After a minute or so the voice said, 'You can look now.'

Hermione obeyed and realised the reason for the former warning. Even the dim light in the room caused some discomfort to her eyes. She eyed the figure next to her bed and blanched. It was her former Potions professor, apparently alive and well. Dressed in his black teaching robes, he looked the same as he always did, as if no giant venomous cobra had ever gone near him. For a second, Hermione wondered whether the last battle had just been a horrible nightmare.

Snape's lips twitched in something resembling amusement.

'Surprised? After you personally brought me back from the edge of the Veil?'

Hermione could only gawk at him, bewildered. She remembered healing him, but she never thought she would see him next to her bed, tending to her. Apparently, her confusion showed clearly on her face, as Snape sighed and explained.

'You, Miss Granger, are suffering from severe overexertion of you magical powers. You were already tired and malnourished when you entered the battle. You expended too much energy fighting. Apparently, you had drained yourself almost dry when you found me.'

Hermione nodded slowly.

'I remember...I didn't feel strong enough to Apparate and the first two times I tried the healing spell, it didn't work.'

Snape looked sharply in her eyes.

'And the third time? Why did it work?'

She shrugged.

'I honestly don't know. All I remember is that I braced myself on the floor because I was going to fall down, I gathered all the power I could and it worked.'

Snape's face remained impassive, but something passed through his eyes, something she couldn't quite place. He shook his head a little, as if to chase away an unwelcome thought, and continued.

'It seems that it was in fact the last of your magical energy that you used to heal me, Miss Granger. You can consider yourself lucky. Most of the people who suffer such complete drain remain Squibs for the rest of their lives. Some don't even survive.'

Hermione shuddered at the thought of losing all her magic. But she hadn't. She felt it there, thrumming through her blood and nerves, more present than ever before. She smiled shyly.

'Something tells me that I had a good Potions Master at my service.'

This time, Snape's lips twitched more noticeably, coming as close to a smile as she had ever seen them. He bowed slightly.

'It was the least that I could do after what you did for me, Miss Granger. However, make no mistake—I made the potions to support your life and your body, the retention of your magic was all up to you. The Healers at St Mungo's thought your case as a lost cause. I knew though, that you are stronger than you look.'

Hermione's cheeks burned at the first compliment she had ever received from her teacher. Suddenly uncomfortable, she changed the topic.

'How long have I been out? You seem completely recovered.'

'You managed to heal my wound perfectly, Miss Granger. As you surely had noticed, I ingested the adequate antivenin before my encounter with Nagini. All I needed was a Blood-Replenishing Potion, food, and rest. You have been out for two weeks, more than enough for me to recover, stand a trial and be absolved—thanks to your friend Potter. I am now a war hero and every day I get...fan mail.' Snape shuddered. 'I reconsider my opinion of The-Boy-Who-Lived. If he is able to withstand the Wizarding World's simpering love for so many years without going insane, he has indeed more strength of character than I thought.'

Through his dry sarcasm, Hermione could see a grudging respect for Harry, but she left it alone. Snape seemed to be in talkative mood, so she dared to ask another question.

'What are you going to do now, sir?'

'I haven't taken a sabbatical in all my years at Hogwarts. I believe a year away from Britain will do me a lot of good. I have a small cottage in Greece, from my father's side of the family. I will catch up on all my suspended projects and research.'

'You are leaving?'

'I need time to come to terms with everything that has happened during the past year. One more thing, I owe you my life, Miss Granger. In my case, this is a favour of dubious value, but the intent counts and I am grateful. You may call me by my given name if you wish so.'

Hermione cringed inwardly. Did he think he would be better off dead? Shelving the thought for further contemplation, she tried to smile at him and replied, 'Well, you saved mine too, so I should extend the same courtesy.'

He gave a curt nod, stood up, and pointed to the small table.

'Here are ten more phials of the potion you drank this morning. I think after a week your headaches will subside, but it never hurts to be on the safe side. You should refrain from using magic for several days as I am sure Poppy will instruct you. I will take my leave now, your friends should be here soon, so you will not be alone. Farewell, Miss Granger.' Snape swept out of the infirmary in a billow of robes.

Hermione blinked. The whole experience was surreal. He spoke to her in civil tone; the man who had used every opportunity to cut her down to size, and then some. She shook her head. Maybe it was an after-effect of the king cobra venom. She was startled out of her thoughts by the voices in the hallway. The door opened. Two worried faces peeked in and immediately broke out into huge grins.

The boys almost smothered the life out of her when they saw her awake. Harry looked strange without the prominent scar on his forehead, but his eyes had lost some of the hollow, haunted look that had scared her so much in the past year. Ron flushed a little when their eyes met, but it seemed they both knew that their kiss was a result of the heat of the battle, and that it would remain so. They told her all about the Order of Merlin that awaited her at the Ministry, the ongoing renovation of Hogwarts, the Death Eater trials, until her head started to swim and she felt warning thrums in her temples. Right on time, Madam Pomfrey entered the ward and shooed Harry and Ron away from her patient. After the grumbling boys left, the Hogwarts matron checked Hermione over, repeated Snape's instructions about doing magic and gave her a sleeping draught.

Severus Snape opened the door to the Shrieking Shack and entered. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, looking at the spot where he almost bled to death, but he shook the nausea away and crouched on the floor, examining it closely. Soon he saw what he was looking for. On the hard dirt floor, pressed almost as solid as concrete, grew a single red flower. Its vibrant colour stood out against the grey earth around it. It was next to the huge spot of dried blood...his blood...exactly where Hermione must have stood. Looking closely, he even saw the faint imprint of her five fingers around the flower.

Severus caressed the red petals with a finger and stood up. While he walked back to the castle with an extra deep scowl, he kept rubbing his chin, deep in thought. He would have to keep an eye on the girl.

**A/N:** The title of the story belongs to **Kings Of Convenience**. This chapter's title belongs to **Garbage**. Many thanks to my incredible beta, **Gryffindor_Slytherin**.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Downward Spiral**

After a month of taking it easy, Hermione had finally been proclaimed fully recovered and received permission to use any type of magic she wanted. Madam Pomfrey only asked her to watch for any signs of weakness and to please, please not overexert herself. Hermione promised…and promptly launched herself into frantic studying for the upcoming NEWTs. The final exams were to be held at the Ministry for everyone who wished to take them.

Hermione moved in to Grimmauld Place together with Harry and Ron. To her greatest surprise, they both refused the complimentary NEWT scores offered by the Ministry. Apparently, Scrimgeour was trying to make amends for his treatment of Harry. However, his "generous" offer was passed over. Harry grinned at her incredulous face and said, 'I suppose those grades are needed for a reason, Hermione. I want to be a good Auror, so I guess I'll have to sit down on my arse and study a bit, huh?' Ron nodded his consent with some reluctance.

So, the trio were back together—Hermione designing study schedules for the boys, making lists of all the spells and potions that they would have to revise for. They couldn't play Quidditch in the middle of London, which made them grumble a bit, but living independently won over Quidditch any day. Mrs. Weasley kept dropping hints that they would be welcome to stay at the Burrow anytime, but after the year they had spent alone in their tent together, they felt too grown up to be mothered by Molly. Of course, they visited the Burrow at least once a week, sometimes more often. The Weasleys were still devastated by Fred's death and Molly needed the support of all her children, including Harry and Hermione. George had suspended the shop for a while and had gone with Charlie to the dragon reserve. Ginny and Harry were back together and she visited Grimmauld Place almost every day. Everyone was struggling to maintain a semblance of a normal life, pretending that everything was getting better.

In the evenings, Hermione, Ron, and Harry usually stopped studying and had dinner, taking turns to cook or ordering food; sometimes they would speak about the battle. However, they rarely spoke about their own feelings, as if it was too soon and still too painful.

One of these evenings, Hermione managed to get out of Harry more of the story about Snape. He had left for his cottage in Greece immediately after she had woken up, so she had never got the chance to speak to him again. At first, Harry was reluctant to reveal anything, claiming it would be a violation of the professor's trust. Finally, she managed to coax out of him two facts. Firstly, Snape had indeed been helping them all along through their Horcrux hunt. Secondly, he had been driven through his life by his deep affection for a woman who was long dead. There he stopped talking and clammed up, glaring at her as if he had said too much already. After that, he refused to discuss the professor.

Another piece of information she had gathered was at one of Molly's dinners. Just as they arrived, Arthur introduced her to a middle-aged wizard, Healer Brendan from St. Mungo's. He looked at Hermione with bright eyes.

'Glad to see you are so much better, Miss Granger. It seems that Severus was right as ever.'

Her curiosity piqued, she asked, 'Professor Snape? What was he right about?' The man chuckled.

'I was one of your healers when you were in a coma, dear. It shames me to say that I had almost given up on you, as well as the others. When you showed signs of recovery, I remarked it was a pity that such a young and promising witch would be rendered a mere Squib. Then Severus glared at me in his special way and said, "Carl, Miss Granger is more interconnected with her magic than any pureblood! If she does not die, she will recover fully." And, I see your magical aura is very strong. The man has the infuriating habit of being always right, but this time I can truly say I am glad about it.'

Hermione flushed, feeling sudden warmth at her professor's belief in her. He himself had said as much during their last talk, but it was different hearing it from another person.

Two months after the battle, NEWT week finally arrived. It was a blur of revision, oral and written exams, and sheer exhaustion. Her friends were worried that the exertion could deplete her magic again, but Hermione felt fine. True, her body was taxed from lack of sleep and too much caffeine, but she felt her magic alive and vibrant, thrumming through her veins, stronger than ever. The sensation was different from before her illness, but she attributed it to heightened awareness. After all, she had been close to losing it; it was reasonable to think that she would feel it more consciously now. Hermione also took to studying in the back garden of Grimmauld Place. It was shabby and full of weed overgrowth, but being outdoors seemed to return some of her energy.

After the last exam, the three friends got together for a celebratory lunch with their schoolmates at the Three Broomsticks, and a celebratory dinner at the Burrow. Harry and Ron had drunk a little too much and weren't up for Apparating home, and Hermione didn't want to go alone back to an empty house. So, the boys bunked together in the twins' old room, while Hermione got the luxury of Percy's old room all to herself.

That was the night when the nightmares began.

_  
She was standing on the battlefield, the familiar stench of blood and burned flesh making her choke. The bodies of friends scattered all around her, Fred's empty gaze, Colin Creevey, seeming even smaller in death, and the blood, all the blood coming seemingly from nowhere. Then, all the familiar faces contorted into hateful masks, hurling accusations at her. "Why did you have to live and we didn't? What makes you so special? We had families that miss us; you have no one. Nobody would have missed you; why didn't you die instead of one of us?" Their faces got closer and closer, their mouths opened and blood started to pour out, quickly rising to her throat and threatening to engulf her, while she struggled and screamed, 'It wasn't my fault, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.'  
_

She woke up drenched in cold sweat, her last scream still ringing in her ears. Someone was knocking frantically on the door.

'Hermione! Hermione, open the door!' It was Mrs. Weasley. Hermione stumbled out of bed and unwarded the room. Mrs. Weasley rushed in, wand drawn, lips tight with concern. When she saw Hermione alone, she dropped her wand with a sigh of relief. Ginny followed her and lingered quietly in the doorway.

'Are you all right, dear? I heard you scream and I thought Merlin knows what.'

'I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley. I just had a nightmare, I'm sorry I scared you.'

Ginny smiled and asked, 'Do you want me to stay with you? It helps if you don't sleep alone.' In response, Hermione lifted the covers and Ginny slipped into the bed. Mrs. Weasley said, 'Goodnight,' and left the girls alone.

Ginny waited until her mother's footsteps faded and probed gently, 'Do you want to talk about it?' Hermione sighed. She needed to talk about it, but she didn't want to bring up Fred's death and upset her friend. So she muttered, 'It was about the battle, Ginny, please don't ask about details.'

The younger girl squeezed her hand. 'I understand. I had nightmares about Tom after the Chamber incident. I didn't feel like talking about it until years later. I know it's different for everyone; I just wanted to let you know that you can always talk to me. Go to sleep now, or you're going to look like shit tomorrow.'

Hermione swatted Ginny half-heartedly and quickly followed her advice, trying to forget the disturbing images of her nightmare.

For a while after that first night, Hermione's sleep was untroubled. Unlike before, she was calm about her exam results. To her great amusement, Harry and Ron were nervous and fidgety, jumping at every unfortunate owl that arrived with a letter. When the long awaited letters finally arrived, the boys almost ripped them open with excitement. A moment later, the room was filled with frantic yelling and Hermione doubled over with laughter, watching their victory dance. There was an additional letter enclosed with their results—they were both accepted in the Auror Training Program. After the excitement had died down, Harry and Ron towered over her, demanding to see her scores.

'I want to see if you have at least a single E, just to prove that you are human.' Ron teased her with a huge grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed, 'Honestly, Ronald, I had an E on my Defence OWL. Besides, the only important ones are Potions and Arithmancy.'

She opened her letter and scanned it quickly with a smug smile. Then she tossed it onto the table and sighed with mock regret.

'Sorry to disappoint you, Ron, it seems that I am not human after all.'

Harry grabbed the score sheet and looked at it in awe. Reading through the comments, he gave her a funny look.

'It says here that you beat the record score on the Potions exam.'

Hermione grinned. 'Yes, I saw it.'

Harry interrupted her, 'It also says that the last record score belonged to Professor Snape and my mum.'

Hermione's eyes widened and she reached for the letter, this time reading it carefully. When she raised her eyes, she smiled sadly.

'Yes, it seems they had a tie that year.' She folded the letter carefully and put it back in the envelope.

Ron looked genuinely impressed.

'Wow, Mione! I bet you could study Potions anywhere you wanted with that score.'

'That is exactly what I am planning to do, I just have not decided where. That is why I needed high marks in Potions and Arithmancy.'

Harry put an arm on her shoulder, smiling genuinely. 'Ron is right, Hermione, I am sure you can go wherever you decide.'

After one more week of relaxation, the boys' summer training began. Meanwhile, Hermione's nightmares returned. She had dismissed that one night as an accident, but it soon became clear that the nightmares weren't going to go away. It was almost the same every time: the hateful faces of her dead friends hurling insults, drowning her in blood. She always woke up before the blood reached her face, but that didn't make it any better. A Silencing Charm became part of her bedtime routine because she didn't want to disturb the boys. The first night, when they woke because of her screams, she managed to persuade them that it was an accident. They didn't know about her first nightmare at the Burrow, so they bought it and didn't ask any more questions.

Hermione remembered Ginny's offer, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to talk to anybody about her problem. All her friends seemed to have come to terms with their losses. Harry was still sad when he spoke of Lupin and Tonks, but he was dead serious about his godfather duties. Sometimes, instead of going straight home after training, he visited Andromeda Tonks together with Ginny and spent time with little Teddy. George returned from Romania and reopened his joke shop, so Ron often visited to help him out and sometimes slept over. Even Molly didn't burst into tears every time someone mentioned Fred's name. Everyone appeared to be coping well and she didn't feel it was fair to open up old wounds that were on the mend.

Going to sleep after a nightmare was nearly impossible, and the insomnia made Hermione grumpy and irritable. The boys were hardly at home anymore, thus nobody noticed her drifting away. Her nightly terrors continued during the day, she was feeling increasingly guilty about letting her friends die. She tried taking a Dreamless Sleep Potion before going to bed, but it was highly addictive, so she dared use it only when she felt on the brink of exhaustion. Sometimes, the dreams would cease for several days and just when she started hoping, they would return at full force. Even spending time in the garden didn't relax her anymore. Hermione was falling into despair.

One night her usual dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion didn't prevent the nightmare, and when she woke up she broke down, sobbing into her pillow. Furious, she cast Lumos and grabbed for her potion case, determined to get some sleep—no matter what. While she rummaged for the potion, her hand closed around an unfamiliar phial. Looking closely, she identified the spidery scrawl as Professor Snape's. It was a leftover phial from the headache potion he gave her while she was ill. Suddenly, an idea formed in her head. She could write about her problem to him. It was grasping at straws, but she had to tell someone! He had been kind to her. Hell, he had even given her permission to use his given name, not that she was going to use it. Professor Snape had suffered through enough traumatic experiences to last several lifetimes; maybe he could give her some insight and advice. He could also tell her off as a presuming and insolent little girl, but she was desperate enough to risk his wrath. She took out a piece of parchment, a quill, and composed her letter. It seemed that pouring her thoughts on paper put her mind at ease because afterwards, she fell into an untroubled sleep.

Early in the morning, she caught Ron by the sleeve just before he left.

'Ron, may I borrow Pig for a few days? I need to send a letter abroad.' Ron shrugged.

'Sure. I use the Auror Department's owls anyway.' Hermione thanked him and hurried off to send her letter.

Severus Snape scowled at the sun. It was the only thing that bothered him about Greece: the sun was too bright and the summer was much too hot. He was currently in shirtsleeves, picking fresh thyme from his cottage's garden. Just as he was going back inside, he heard the fluttering of wings. Turning around, he was assaulted by a very small and tired owl, which dropped a letter into his hand and promptly fell on the ground. Severus sighed, recognising Weasley's owl. He carried the small bird inside, cast Ennervate, and provided him with water and some food. While the owl stuffed his beak, scarily reminiscent of his master, Severus opened his letter and read it, his scowl deepening by the minute.

"Professor Snape,

I apologise if I am overstepping my boundaries by writing this letter, but you seemed sympathetic when we spoke last and I am afraid I don't know whom else to turn to. Two months after the battle, I began having nightmares: my dead friends accuse and ask me why it is that I still live while they have died…during the day, I continue to ask myself the same questions. I know I could not have helped them, but I still feel guilty about it. Somehow, I cannot bring myself to talk to anybody over here about this matter. They all seem so happy nowadays and I do not want to be the one to dig up old skeletons. Perhaps, I do not have any right to write to you, but my intuition tells me that you will understand and can maybe offer a solution. I dare not sleep because of the nightmares and I do not think it is safe to take any more Dreamless Sleep Potion. Maybe there is another, less addictive potion you could offer? I apologise again for any inconvenience that I have caused.

Hermione Granger"

Severus growled in anger, startling the small owl. He glared at the bird and ground out, 'Wait here. You can carry back the reply straightaway.' He sat down at his desk and started scribbling furiously, muttering about the stupid Gryffindor nobility. After finishing, he sealed the letter and tied it to the owl's leg. Ignoring his reproachful look, he carried the bird outside and tossed him in the air quite unceremoniously. Then, he walked into his cottage and slammed the door closed.

Pig returned a week after she sent him. He flew in through the window while Hermione was having breakfast by herself. The tired owl dropped the letter on her plate, helped himself to some bacon, and flew away sulking. Hermione grabbed the letter and read it quickly.

"Miss Granger,

Saving my life doesn't entitle you to use me as an agony uncle, but I understand your predicament. Blaming yourself is a common reaction—it is called survivor's guilt. The recurring nightmares, however, indicate a more serious condition. I suggest you read up on clinical depression and post-traumatic stress disorder. See if you have any other matching symptoms besides obsessive feelings and nightmares.

Either way, I suggest you overcome your reluctance and speak to your closest friends. There is no love lost between Potter, Weasley, and me, but they have shown signs of maturity and I believe they will understand and can help you overcome your problem.

Minerva has informed me that you have hidden your parents in Australia under false identities and a Memory Charm. Now that the threat to their lives is over, I believe you should retrieve them immediately; you will need their support too.  
Do not, I repeat, DO NOT take any more Dreamless Sleep Potion. I have been told that in such cases, another person's presence in the room can subdue the nightmares. I wish you a speedy recovery, Miss Granger.

Severus Snape, Potions Master

PS: Congratulations on your Potions NEWT score."

**A/N:** Many thanks to **Gryffindor_Slytherin**, the greatest beta ever, and to all reviewers. This chapter's title belongs to **Nine Inch Nails**.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Further Down the Spiral**

After reading Professor Snape's letter, Hermione sat at the table for a long time, lost in thought. He was right—she needed to get a grip and talk to her friends. But first, she would need to go get her parents She didn't like to contemplate on their reaction when she reversed the Memory Charms, but she missed them terribly. She was determined to buy back her parents' house before she went to retrieve them. She could only hope that they would be able to forgive her for shipping them away; she would do everything possible to make them comfortable when they have returned. Hermione quickly dressed and left for Diagon Alley: she had to visit Gringotts and later the Ministry before she could proceed.

Hermione Apparated to a close by alleyway in her old neighbourhood. Tucking her wand away, she walked out onto the street and headed towards the real estate agency. She entered the small office and a young clerk smiled at her.

'Good morning! My name is Lucy Richards, how may I help you?'

Hermione gave the address of the property and expressed an interest in buying it. The woman did a quick search of her database and announced that the house was actually for sale. Hermione couldn't believe her luck: she had been prepared to offer a larger sum to the current owners to persuade them to sell. She quickly agreed on the price, and an hour later after all the formalities were dealt with, she left the office clutching to her chest the deeds to the house.

Sitting in her favourite café a few blocks from the house, she sipped on her espresso and smiled up at the sky. Everything was going according to plan. While she waited for her crumpet, she picked up a newspaper from the tray and leafed through it. During the last year she rarely had time to catch up with the news from the Muggle world. Scanning the boring articles about government changes and such, she reached the page with world news and just as she was ready to turn to the next one, a headline caught her eye that made her blood run cold.

_"Memorial to the victims of Cyclone Marion in Queensland_

_Today, the Lord Mayor of Brisbane unveiled a small memorial plaque with the names of the diseased. Seventy-three names reside on the memorial honouring the final number of victims. All of the City Council expressed their condolences to the families..."_

Hermione took a large breath and willed herself to be calm. True, her parents lived in Brisbane, but it was highly unlikely that they had suffered too badly from the cyclone. Well, she was going to check anyway. Her watch displayed 10:30 AM and with the time difference of nine hours, that meant it was 7:30 PM in Brisbane—not too late for a visit. She walked out of the café and walked again into a nearby alleyway. There, she closed her hand around the Portkey Kingsley had given her and felt the familiar tug behind her navel.

Arriving in Brisbane, Hermione could still see the damage from the cyclone even four months later. Trying to avoid thinking about that, she walked to the building where her parents lived and worked. Walking up the stairs, she dreaded the moment she would reverse the Memory Charm. _Oh, dad will go spare! And mum will cry… _She didn't want to think about any other possibilities, much more horrible than her parents' ire. Reaching the third floor, she located the door that simply said, "Wendell and Monica Wilkins, Dentists" and rang the doorbell. When nobody answered, she rang again. _Maybe they are on holiday!_ On the third ring, the opposite door opened and a middle-aged black woman peeked out. When she saw Hermione, her face fell.

'You looking for the Wilkins, honey?'

Hermione nodded, cold fear gripping her heart. The woman sighed and moved aside.

'Better come in, then.'

_It can't be. It's not possible. Maybe they are ill? Or they moved?_ Trying desperately to fight away the despair that threatened to overwhelm her, she numbly followed the woman. Some distant part of her registered that her nameplate read "Mrs. Sullivan".

Mrs. Sullivan led her to a cosy sitting room and motioned towards a small red sofa. She pulled up an armchair and looked at Hermione with sad eyes.

'I am really sorry, honey. It was the cyclone, it hit when it was their day off. They drove to the beach and never returned.'

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, willing away the threatening tears. She had saved them from Voldemort, but only to put them on the path of a cyclone. Which was worse, they had died without remembering their own daughter.

The woman sighed again and patted her hand.

'People have been coming here since it happened: friends and patients. It was always hard to say it, but it's even worse now, telling a relative.'

Hermione's eyes snapped up to Mrs. Sullivan's face.

'How do you know I am a relative?' she asked sharply.

'You look so much like Monica, child.' The old woman said kindly, 'If I didn't know better, I'd say you were her daughter.'

Hermione swayed slightly, but managed to regain her composure. All of her insides felt cold and numb; she only wanted to go home.

'I am a…niece. From England. Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan, I need to go.'

The concerned woman walked her to the door. Hermione left the building, ducked into the first empty alley she spotted and activated her Portkey. Just as she had asked, the destination was her old house. As if in a trance, she walked to her old room—apparently, the new owners had turned it into a guestroom, but the bed was still in the same spot. There, she finally collapsed and cried herself to sleep.

Hermione woke up around noon in her old childhood room, hugging a tear-soaked pillow. She cast a quick freshening charm on her clothes and face before she left the house, trying not to look around much. She didn't need any more reminders of the situation after barely managing to compose herself.

She arrived with a crack on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place and walked in. Loud noises were coming from the dining room, Ginny's laughter and the boys' booming voices. She smiled ruefully. They were the closest individuals she had now. Walking in the room, she was assaulted by a chorus of greetings and Harry, who engulfed her in a bear hug. She looked around—Ginny beamed a huge smile at her; Ron also smiled, although a bit lopsided.

'Well?' Hermione said, 'I figure you have something to tell me?'

Suddenly shy, Harry stepped away from her. Ginny lifted her right hand and a small ruby shone on her ring finger. Hermione's eyes widened.

'You…you're getting married?' She realised that didn't come out right and quickly continued. 'That's great, I'm so happy for you! It was just so sudden…Ginny, you haven't even finished school yet!'

Ron muttered, 'Yeah, tell me about it.'

Harry walked over to Ginny and grasped her hand.

'She's of age already and we didn't want to wait anymore. It's not like we're having babies anytime soon.' Ginny blushed and swatted his hand. 'There is another thing: after a few years, when we both have jobs and Teddy reaches the age for daycare, we want to adopt him officially.'

Hermione covered her face with her hands and sighed deeply.

'Have you really thought this through?' She asked with a muffled voice.

Both her friends nodded enthusiastically.

'Hermione, we know that we love each other, truly. Why wait? And about Teddy, he is the greatest kid on earth. We spoke to Andy and she thinks it is a great idea.'

Hermione lifted her face and smiled a weary smile.

'Well, I guess congratulations are in order then?' She stood up and proceeded to hug her friends. Ron laughed and joined the group hug.

'You know, Mione, these were exactly the same words Mum used.' Ron said with a grin. 'Well, plus tears and ranting about proper wedding gowns.'

'Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are throwing a small celebration dinner. Do you want to come?' Harry asked.

That was the right moment, the moment to tell them everything. She opened her mouth, but something entirely different came out.

'Harry, Ginny, I'd love to. But I am coming down with something and I'd better stay home for a few days. In fact, I'll go upstairs and have a nap, maybe read a book.' She hurried up the stairs and hid in her room to think things over. She couldn't ruin their moment, not when she saw Ginny's eyes sparkle and Harry's foolish grin. They were all a family now; Harry was officially a part of the Weasleys. They didn't need her—her depressions and problems.

Hermione stared vacantly into space until a knock on the door startled her. It was Harry.

'Hermione, we're leaving for the Burrow and we'll probably stay over. How are you feeling? You know, Madam Pomfrey said we could always Floo her if we need something.'

Hermione forced a smile and shook her head.

'No need, Harry, I will be fine. You go have fun and tell me all about it tomorrow.'

'Sure will. Have a good night!' Harry grinned and closed the door.

Hermione sighed and reached out for her potion case. Despite Professor Snape's advice, she would take the Dreamless Sleep Potion one last time. She really needed to rest and she was certain two additional faces would haunt her dreams.

**A/N:** Huge thanks to **Gryffindor_Slytherin** for beta-reading and to all reviewers. This chapter's title belongs to **Nine Inch Nails**.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: One is the Loneliest Number**

Severus crouched in his garden, observing a small, withered plant. It grew without any special care in England, but the dry, rocky soil in his region of Greece didn't seem to work on the herb. Sighing, he closed his eyes and touched the soil next to the plant's roots. He felt the familiar rush of calmness and opened his eyes to inspect his work. The withered leaves had straightened and even as he watched, small buds opened into white flowers, peppered with red dots. He poured more water into the soil and straightened, satisfied.

Throwing one last look at the herb, he muttered to himself.

'It should have mature fruit by tomorrow. Maybe I pushed too much; I should get up early in case they shrivel.'

A quiet, melodious laugh sounded behind his back.

'I see you have not lost your touch, my dear.'

He swirled around quickly, pointing his wand at the intruder. A small, white-haired woman with ageless features stood before him, green eyes shining. He quickly relaxed and approached her.

'Vesna! I have not seen you in a decade! I thought you don't leave your grove anymore.'

The woman smiled radiantly and took his hands.

'It is true; I rarely leave my home. I wanted to talk to you, Severus. I felt a disturbance several months ago, I felt your life was slipping away from you.'

Severus' features stilled and he exhaled loudly.

'Yes, Vesna, I came very close to dying.'

The woman nodded solemnly.

'I also felt something else, a new Wielder. I felt it on the exact same spot where your life force was leaking. Do you know anything about it?'

Severus raked his fingers through his hair and nodded.

'Yes, I know her. She did it unconsciously in order to heal me. She reached through the soil to power her magic. Some was left over and a flower grew on that exact spot. That is how I knew she could Wield.'

'She doesn't know? I haven't felt her since then.'

'I was not certain until you confirmed it just now. Is that what you do all day? Sit under your tree and listen to the fluctuations in the force?'

Vesna smiled serenely.

'Yes, I do indeed. I feel good in my grove, Severus and there are few people I want to see. But you, you are too young to close yourself away from the world.'

'The world does not care much for me, neither I for it,' grumbled Severus. 'I hate to bear those sycophants whispering behind my back. Nobody is going to forget what I did as a Death Eater, Vesna.'

Vesna reached up and smoothed his furrowed brow with her small hand.

'You did things; it is true. But your soul has remained unblemished, if you can still Wield, Severus. Nobody can take that away from you. Go, find this girl, and teach her our ways. She is very powerful and she should not be left untrained.'

He threw her a dark look.

'You remember what happened the last time I taught Wielding to someone.'

'It is not the same. He is dead. Have you considered that without your instruction, he would never have been defeated in the first place?'

'I know Vesna, but it didn't save her life.'

'You cannot save everyone, Severus. Sad as it is, it was her time to go. I miss her too. But you need to let go and forgive yourself. Please, think about it. If you need me, only call out and I will come to you.'

The woman kissed his forehead and took a step back. A slight shimmer and she was gone.

Severus sighed and his shoulders sagged. Slowly, he walked into the cottage and retrieved a small photo album. He sat in the shade of a large fig tree and looked through the album for a long time. Finally, he closed it and let it drop to the ground, remembering the past and fearing the future.

Hermione awoke reluctantly, squinting at the bright light flowing in through the window. Her eyes felt gritty and swollen from all the crying. As the events from the previous days overwhelmed her, she briefly considered staying in bed. The world didn't seem as particularly a friendly place to Hermione Granger, but finally she stirred and sat upright. The movement made her dizzy; had she eaten yesterday? Had she eaten at all since returning from Brisbane? She couldn't quite remember, but it didn't seem to matter. Slowly, as if her whole body was in pain, she stood up. A nagging noise coming from the window grated on her nerves. She supposed it was an owl, but she didn't really want to read any letters. She didn't want to think, thinking hurt too much. She entered the bathroom, turned on the hot tap, and started to remove her clothes. When she walked under the shower, the water was already scalding hot and she could barely see across the thick fog. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—she looked like a ghost in the foggy glass. _That's what I am, a ghost,_ she thought. The water burned her skin, but it helped against the cold welling up inside her. She felt that if she gave in to the inner turmoil that wracked her brain, she would dissipate amongst the thick clouds of vapour.

Hermione washed her body and hair with stiff movements, like an automaton. She dried off and dressed in the same fashion, still ignoring the insistent tapping on the window. Going downstairs, she put on the kettle and made tea. She sat at the table and poured herself a cup, without bothering with sugar and milk. Something inside her struggled wildly to come out, to scream, but she felt she couldn't even cry anymore.

She could not clearly remember for how long she sat on the table, when she was alerted by the click of the front door. A male voice called out hesitantly, 'Hermione?' That accent...she furrowed her brow and a moment later her eyes widened in recognition, just as the man walked into the kitchen. She stood up and stared at him.

'Viktor? Is that you?'

He looked different from the last time she saw him at Fleur and Bill's wedding. Dressed in a dusty travelling cloak, with stubbles on his chin, he looked older and more worn-out. His smile hadn't changed though, the rare smile reserved for his friends, which transformed his usual sullen countenance. He crossed over to the table in two long strides and gave her a brief, tight hug, before releasing her. She returned the smile and asked, feeling a little confused.

'I am glad to see you, but what are you doing in England?'

'I am on official visit with our Minister. I met Harry at the Ministry and he gave me the address and the wards. I sent you an owl, you did not answer, and so I came to visit.'

Hermione suddenly remembered the persistent tapping on the window. Feeling guilty, she mumbled something about sleeping in late and offered Viktor some tea. Reaching out for the teapot, she found it was cold. She frowned; how long had she been sitting there? She made a fresh pot, all the time feeling Viktor's eyes boring into her back. He didn't say a word, but she could feel his unwavering gaze and it made her uncomfortable. When she set the teapot and cups on the table, she heard a sharp intake of breath. Viktor was staring at her hands with murder in his eyes. When she looked closely, she noticed that her skin was red and puffy. He reached across the table and took them carefully in his own. She winced, feeling the effect of her morning shower.

'Hermione, has someone hurt you? What has happened? Harry said you were ill yesterday; today you didn't answer my owl. Please, tell me! Are we not still friends?'

Hermione's eyes welled at his fierce concern.

'No, Viktor please calm down. I had a lot on my mind this morning and I ran the shower too hot. It's not only my hands.'

She lifted her sleeve to confirm her words. He gasped at the sight of the damaged skin and muttered something in Bulgarian under his breath. He picked up his wand, touched it to her hand, and said, _'Hladno.'_ A wonderful coolness spread across her skin. When she looked at her hand, it was white and her skin didn't hurt anymore. Viktor sheathed his wand, content.

'It will spread over your whole body in several minutes. My mother used it on me when I had sunburn—it heals the skin and calms the nerves.'

Hermione shot him a grateful look and busied herself with pouring tea. She felt dizzy, her mind was still struggling to shake the numbness from that morning; too much had happened during the last few days. Viktor's visit was unexpected, they weren't very close anymore, but she still had warm feelings for the surly Bulgarian. Not romance though, and it seemed he didn't feel anything of that sort either. The only emotions on his face were those of a concerned friend. _And I could use a concerned friend right about now..._

'Hermione? Please tell me what is wrong. It is not only the burns, you don't look like yourself.'

She looked at him with a frown.

'What do you mean?'

Viktor sighed and proffered his hand.

'Come.'

He carefully led her to the full-size mirror in the hallway. When Hermione actually looked at herself, she gasped in horror. Her face was deathly pale and she had dark circles under her eyes. Even after Viktor's cooling charm, there were red blotches on her skin. Her clothes hung on her frame; her shirt was inside out. What frightened her the most was the emptiness of the eyes that met her in the mirror. She turned away.

Viktor gently grasped her hand and led her back to the couch.

'What has happened to my Hermione? This is no illness, something is eating at you from the inside.'

She looked sharply into his eyes. Had he been reading her mind?

'I have been there, Hermione. I have seen this look on people around me. I know you went through a lot this year, but the battle was months ago.'

He hit so close to home that Hermione had to avert her eyes from his to hide the tears that threatened to spill. Yet a part of her rejoiced, _I can still cry...I am alive!_

Viktor quietly spoke again.

'That is it then? It haunts you still?'

And then the dam broke free and the tears spilled. Through hiccoughs and sobs, she managed to recount the whole story—the battle, her nightmares, the correspondence with Snape, and her gleam of hope. Then, she continued with the deaths of her parents, her distance from her friends, and Harry and Ginny's engagement. When she finally stopped speaking, she conjured a handkerchief to wipe her nose and eyes and looked at Viktor.

'I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. I couldn't tell anyone up until now.'

He seemed angry.

'You went through this by yourself?'

She nodded. 'Professor Snape knows about my nightmares. He told me to speak to somebody but I couldn't. And now my parents...'

'You live with Ron and Harry. They claim to be your friends. How could they not notice? Forgive me, but you are a mess! I know we have grown apart, Hermione, but I care a great deal about you! You are one of the nicest people I know and I hate to see you like this. '

'You caught me off guard, Viktor. I always hold myself up when I am with them. I usually wear robes and they hide how thin I've become. Merlin, even I hadn't noticed. Besides, things were never as bad as this morning.'

Viktor's look was murderous; he was clutching his wand and cursing in Bulgarian.

'Do not blame them. They had their own demons to conquer. They've always thought of me as the strong one and I didn't give them any reason to think otherwise.'

'They should have seen it. I saw it and I am not as close to you as they are.'

'Maybe that's why you saw it; they see me every day, and it is harder to notice a change. Besides, we all have our odd moments since the battle. Harry sometimes locks himself in Sirius' old room and when he comes out, I can see he has been crying. He keeps his old photo albums there, photos of his parents, Sirius, and Remus. Ron used to get this haunted look every time he set eyes on George.'

Viktor stood up and started to pace around the room in agitation.

'Yes, but they do not look like starved wraiths! Do not give me that look, you saw yourself in the mirror. From what you have told me, they both have something to hold on to. Harry has his girl...Ginnny? Ronald has his family. What do you have Hermione? They are your friends, yet you keep away from them.'

'I just feel like I don't belong with them anymore. As if they're one big, happy family and I'm a distant relative who has not been invited to the party.'

Viktor pursed his lips and asked, 'Hermione, have you considered studying abroad?'

All colour drained from Hermione's face. Her lips trembled and she swayed precariously.

'I forgot! How could I forget? Bloody Merlin, I am so messed up!' she roared and threw her cup across the room. Viktor grabbed her hand.

'Hermione, what is the matter? Did I upset you?'

'No, it's my application letters. I was supposed to send them a month ago; they probably filled all the available positions already.'

'What are you planning to study?'

'Potions.'

'Problem solved. Come with me to Bulgaria.'

Hermione looked at him in disbelief.

'As of this year, there is a Master Program in Potions in our university. Master Borisov left Durmstrang and returned home. I am sure he would take you. If you are away from England and all the people and places associated with the war, you could gain a new perspective and maybe your bad memories would stop haunting you.'

Hermione stared at her friend in awe.

'When did you grow up so much?'

He gave her a wry smile.

'Since the Triwizard Tournament, Hermione—as we all did.'

Hermione buried her head in her hands and groaned.

'I must have fallen through the Looking Glass. My mind is messed up, my parents are dead, my friends are drifting away, and here you come, my knight in shining armour, sprouting wise words and offering to take me away from all this.' She started giggling, while tears welled up in her eyes. Viktor drew himself up, throwing her an uneasy look, which made her giggle even more. He could be all grown up and smart, but he was just as uncomfortable around a hysterical female as Ron and Harry were. After a while, she managed to compose herself and wiped her eyes.

'I don't know Viktor. I have to think about it. I...I have to gather my wits, I haven't been feeling like myself for so long'

A whoosh from the fireplace disturbed the pensive silence and Harry's head appeared in the flames.

'Mione, are you there?'

Hermione walked over and crouched in front of the fire.

'I'm here, Harry, what is it?'

He gasped and she suddenly remembered her appearance.

'That's it. Move, I'm coming through!'

He stumbled from the fireplace in a whirlwind of Auror robes and soot, quickly grasping her shoulders and staring into her eyes. His face crumbled and he whispered, 'Mione, what in the blazes has happened to you? I met Master Stevenson from Oxford today and asked him about your application. He said he never received one. You said you were ill yesterday and now you look as if a Hippogriff stampeded all over you. Please, speak to me!'

Moved by the intense look in his green eyes, Hermione sniffled and looked away.

'You should have done that some time ago, Harry.'

Harry turned around and saw Viktor glaring at him from the table. He narrowed his eyes and gritted through his teeth, 'Did you do something to her, Krum? If you did, I swear…'

'If you do not trust me, why did you give me access to the house? All I did was talk to her. When was the last time you bothered to do that?' Viktor stood up and picked up his cloak.

'I will leave you alone now, you have much to talk about' he said to Hermione. 'Owl me at the Leaky Cauldron if you want to see me, and think about what I said.' He planted a chaste kiss on her forehead and walked out.

Hermione sighed and looked into Harry's questioning eyes.

'I think you'd better sit down. And please, Floo Ron and Ginny and ask them to come over. I don't want to go through this again with them.'

After Hermione finished her tale, there were tears in everyone's eyes. At some point, Ginny had walked over to her friend and was still holding her hand as she finished speaking. She bowed her head and almost sobbed.

'Hermione, I am so sorry. I knew about the nightmare you had in the Burrow, but I never thought to ask about it later.'

Harry interrupted, 'It's not only your fault. We were all a bunch of insensitive gits.' Turning to Hermione, he asked, his voice cracking, 'Mione, did we really make you feel unwanted?'

Hermione smiled weakly.

'It wasn't really your fault. In the beginning, I didn't want to bother you as I thought it was something temporary. Later, I was so messed up from lack of sleep and guilt that I probably started imagining things. Right now, I can't believe how foolish I have been and how far I let it proceed. It's a good thing Viktor came along.'

Ron frowned at that.

'Mione, how come you never spoke to us, yet you spoke to someone you haven't seen in years?'

'Well, he saw me looking like death warmed over and asked what was wrong. I opened my mouth and it all came out. I don't really know what exactly happened.'

Ron continued, still distraught.

'Why didn't you tell us about your parents yesterday? Did you really think we wouldn't care?'

Ginny glared at her brother.

'She was in shock, Ron. And we didn't exactly let her speak before I flashed my ring at her. What was she supposed to say, "Congratulations, by the way, my parents are dead?" She felt left out, Harry has become a part of our family and she had just lost hers.'

Hermione smiled gratefully at Ginny for her insight.

'That's just about right. I'm sorry about keeping it from you, but my mind was a mess. Merlin, I'm still coming out of this whole thing. I feel so much better now that you know. Maybe those blasted nightmares will stop now, just as Professor Snape supposed.'

Harry looked at her with some curiosity.

'How did you get the idea to write to him of all people?'

'I'm not quite sure; maybe it was because he was so nice to me when we spoke in the infirmary. And I thought he was familiar with the consequences from…traumatic experiences. He gave me sound advice, so it was a good decision. He said something about being familiar with these sorts of feelings, it's called "survivor's guilt".'

Harry reached across the table and grasped her free hand, the other still in Ginny's firm grasp.

'Hermione, I think everyone who survived the battle has felt this at some point. I know I have. I keep asking myself whether I was fast enough, did I make all the right decisions, and could I have saved any of them. Finally, I decided that I did my best and what's done is done. You did everything in your power, and after all, you did save Professor Snape. Almost at the cost of your own life, if I might add.'

Hermione blanched. That thought had never actually crossed her mind and a warm feeling rose up inside her. As she quickly recounted his letter, she noticed that he had hinted subtly at the fact, maybe with the idea to remind her that she had, after all, saved at least _him_. A tentative smile crawled across her face. Her friends were watching her intently and mimicked her smile, sharing a look of relief.

The day had been emotionally draining for Hermione and her eyes started drooping as soon as she really felt the burden of her secrets lifted from her chest. Ginny noticed her friend's fatigue and quickly suggested an afternoon nap. Hermione's eyes grew wary at the notion of sleep, but Ginny hurried to explain.

'You said that Professor Snape advised you to sleep with another person in the room. I will take a book to read and I will stay with you all the time.' Hermione still looked dubious and Ginny huffed impatiently, 'You have to sleep at some point and we might as well try to see if this works.'

Hermione conceded and both girls headed upstairs, while Harry and Ron Flooed back to the Ministry. Hermione crawled into her bed and her eyes closed instantly. Ginny transfigured a shabby chair into a comfortable armchair and curled up with her book. She kept glancing at her sleeping friend, but Hermione showed no signs of discomfort. After three hours, she finally stirred and looked up at Ginny with eyes full of wonder.

'Do you realise,' she rasped, 'that this is the first time I woke up normally in a long time?'

Ginny smiled at her and closed her book.

'It seems that the good professor was right. Now, let's grab some dinner, it's seven o'clock already and I'm starving.'

Hermione found that her stomach was also making loud demands and the girls went to the kitchen to get some food. While they ate, two consecutive cracks sounded outside the front door and in a moment Harry and Ron joined them. Ron flopped down in an armchair and announced to the world:

'Apparition still makes me queasy, but Floo twice a day is more than enough.' He glanced at the table and whinged, 'Come on, Ginny, be a good sister, and make your tired brother something to eat.'

Ginny glared at him, but fixed him a sandwich nonetheless, as well as one for Harry. Ron bit into his and asked though a mouthful, 'What, no cooking today?' Before Ginny could draw a breath to yell at him, Hermione's clear voice interrupted.

'Honestly, Ronald, how many times do I have to tell you not to speak with your mouth full? It's revolting!'

At this, Harry grinned and walked over to her to give her a hug.

'Gee, I'm glad to have the old Hermione back.'

She threatened him with her fork and said smugly, 'I also didn't have any nightmares, thank you very much.'

This statement produced cheers from everyone and Ginny stood up.

'I'll Floo mum to tell her I'll be spending the night. I'll try to explain things to her and I'm sure she won't mind.'

While Ginny was talking to Mrs Weasley, Harry asked Hermione, 'What are you going to do about school? Isn't it late to send applications already?'

Hermione nodded.

'I guess it's late, but Viktor came up with an idea. If you don't mind, I'd like to invite him to dinner tomorrow to talk about it.'

'Sure, tell him to come over. I guess I'll have to apologise for acting like a prat.' He gave her a lopsided grin.

Hermione patted his hand.

'Don't worry, I'm sure he'll understand.'

Ginny came back and announced, 'Everything is settled. I'm feeling pretty knackered, so I'll just head upstairs to your room, Hermione.'

Hermione smiled at her with gratitude.

'Thanks for doing this, Gin. I'll be right up, I need to catch up on _a lot_ of sleep.'

She rummaged around the room for ink, quill, and parchment and wrote a short letter to Viktor, inviting him to dinner on the next day. She Flooed the Leaky Cauldron, asked Tom to deliver her message and after hugging Harry and Ron, she went to her room. Ginny was already asleep, so Hermione changed quietly into her nightgown and slipped in bed. She glanced at the bottle of Dreamless Sleep Potion that still remained on her nightstand and smiled. She hoped she wouldn't need it anymore.

**A/N:** I decided that chapter 3 was way too short, so today you get a bonus chapter. Thanks for the reviews. :)  
Three cheers for **Gryffindor_Slytherin**, my beta. This chapter's title belongs to **Filter**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Coming Back To Life**

Hermione woke up to the sound of birds chirping in the tree beneath her window and the smell of breakfast seeping up the stairs from the kitchen. She snuggled under the covers and let the sounds of morning coax her to full awake. The contrast to the previous day was overwhelming. While she still missed her parents, the desperation, which permeated her being, was gone. After a good night's sleep, her mind felt much clearer, and the terrible burden of guilt and secrecy was relieved after the long talk with her friends.

She got up and walked into the bathroom, adjusting the water temperature carefully before taking a shower. A repeat performance of yesterday's fiasco was highly undesirable and her skin was still sensitive, even after Viktor's cooling charm. When she returned to her room, she stopped in her tracks and looked around, frowning. Her usually immaculate room was a total mess—dirty clothes were everywhere and a thick layer of dust covered everything, even her favourite books. Once more, Hermione realised the extent of her depression. She took her wand from the bedside table and went to work. When she went down to breakfast half an hour later, she left behind a room in spotless condition.

Feeling content, Hermione peeked into the kitchen and saw Ginny reading a book and tapping her foot to a song on the Wizarding Wireless. She raised her head and smiled radiantly at her friend.

'Good morning, Hermione! You look so much better today, I'm glad that Professor Snape's suggestion worked. Have some breakfast.'

Hermione enjoyed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast and listened to her friend's wedding plans. She was glad that Ginny had sensed her need to go back to everyday life and didn't broach any sensitive subjects. At some point, a pretty falcon flew in and extended his leg to Hermione. She gave it a piece of bacon and read her letter.

'Viktor is coming, we will have to cook dinner for five.'

Ginny smirked.

'You mean that I will have to cook it, while keeping you away from any sharp objects?'

Hermione glared at her friend.

'You'll have to know that I haven't cut myself even once when I prepare potion ingredients!'

Ginny raised her hands in mock defeat.

'Okay, okay, you are the Potions Prodigy; I am the Cooking Champ. Though, I don't think the boys would appreciate a Draught of the Living Death for dinner.'

Both girls got a mental picture of Harry and Ron's faces and they burst into giggles. When they calmed down, Hermione wiped her tears of mirth and said quietly, 'You know, it's good to be able to laugh again.'

Ginny leaned over the table and gave her a quick hug.

'I understand, Hermione, and I'm happy that you're better. Now, go clean out your room, young lady! I don't know if you've noticed, but it's a complete pigsty.'

Hermione gave her a smug smile.

'I already did. But you're right, I believe even Harry's room was never that bad.'

Gin agreed and stood up.

'That reminds me—I have a lunch date with him. We're going to Andromeda's to see Teddy. Do you feel like coming along?'

Hermione shook her head slowly.

'I don't think it would be wise, Ginny. I need to sort thinks out a bit more before I can see other people. Maybe next week?'

'I see. Maybe you're right. Okay, I'll be back sometime in the afternoon to cook dinner. Something traditional? Or maybe Italian, I have a new Spaghetti Carbonara charm I want to try.'

Hermione nodded vigorously.

'Italian will be perfect. It seems English cuisine is too bland for Bulgarians.'

After Ginny left, Hermione went up to her room and curled up in bed with an old Potions tome. Suddenly, she got an idea and went to rummage in her old school trunk. From a small compartment, she retrieved a short silver necklace with an elaborate H as a pendant. It was a gift from her parents; the only thing she had left,as she had destroyed all family photos in an attempt to erase any connection between them. She put the chain on her neck and the small silver letter lay neatly on her breastbone. It still hurt, but wearing the pendant somehow helped her come to terms with her loss. She caressed it and whispered, 'I'll come and visit you soon. I hope you are together, wherever you are.' She climbed back into bed and picked up her book. Smelling the old musty pages, she smiled to herself, _'Ah, it's good to be me again. The bookworm is back, so watch out.'_

Harry and Ron arrived tired after a hard day only to endure a tirade from Hermione about proper behaviour towards guests. After enduring ten minutes of veiled threats against their naughty bits if they so much as breathed the wrong way, Ron finally raised his hand to stop her.

'Okay, we get it; we will behave. Won't we, Harry?'

Harry was grinning like a nutter at Hermione.

'I said I wanted to apologise, right? Look at her, next thing she will ask for our wands.' Ignoring her glare, he leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek.

Later, when the doorbell rang and Hermione answered, Viktor took her hands and looked her over. Then he flashed a brief smile and said 'Now this is my Hermione!'

Harry and Ron sniggered at her grumbled 'I wish everyone would stop saying that.'

Harry stepped forward and proffered his hand.

'I apologise for my behaviour yesterday; it was uncalled for. I know you wouldn't hurt Hermione and I thank you for being her friend.'

Viktor accepted Harry's hand and shook it firmly.

'I accept your apology. I see you have taken good care of her since yesterday.'

Hermione tapped her foot on the floor.

'Excuse me, would you please stop talking as if I am not present? Thank you.'

Ron was staring at Viktor with curiosity.

'When did you learn to speak such good English?'

Hermione turned to swat him on the head for his tactlessness, but her hand stopped mid-air and she turned to Viktor.

'Hey, Ron's right. Now you can even pronounce my name.'

Viktor smiled again.

'Three years have passed since the Triwizard Tournament and then my knowledge of English was basic. We had a quick course before we left, so we could communicate to the people in Hogwarts, and that's it. Besides, our teacher was Russian and they have some issues with pronunciation. I have studied English extensively since, it is a very international language.'

After that issue was cleared, they ate dinner. Ginny's spaghetti were a smashing success and Viktor looked decidedly happy. After dinner, Hermione suggested drinks in the library. When everyone was settled, Ginny, Ron, and Harry turned expectant looks towards her. She took a deep breath and started.

'As you are all aware, I forgot to send my application letters. I still cannot believe I was messed up to such an extent, but the fact remains. It's already very late and probably all the available positions are filled. Viktor told me that there is a new program in Bulgaria, taught by the Durmstrang's Potions Master. This fact is not widely known and there might be a position available for me.'

Viktor nodded.

'There is, I already checked. I know you have not decided yet, but I wanted to make sure.'

Hermione looked at her friends' faces. They displayed a whole kaleidoscope of emotions. It was Ron who finally said what they all felt.

'We will miss you, Hermione. But this is important for you and I think you should go. Right mates?'

The other two nodded, Ginny with tears glistening in her eyes. Hermione felt her own eyes well up. She felt Viktor's hand grasp hers.

'You have good friends, Hermione.' He turned to the others and spoke solemnly.

'It seems I owe you an apology as well. After seeing her yesterday, I presumed in my anger that you didn't care about her. Now I know better. I am sorry.'

Hermione considered her possibilities. She could wait and apply for the next academic year, but the thought of sitting around and doing nothing didn't appeal to her. She felt nervous about going so far away from home, but after all there was the Floo. Harry was talking about installing a telephone in Grimmauld Place so that was an option too. She could go home for the vacations…

She looked up and saw everyone looking at her with little smiles. Apparently, they recognised the "wheels turning" expression on her face. She sighed and took her wand out.

'_Accio_ application letters!' Several rolls of parchment flew from the upper floor. Hermione caught them neatly and unrolled one of them. She made the necessary corrections, changing the name of the institution and the addressee, and sealed the scroll. Then she tossed the rest of them into the fireplace and grinned.

'That's it. Viktor, please keep this for me and send it tomorrow. I'd hate to get another bout of forgetfulness.'

The Bulgarian chuckled and tucked away the letter in his robes, promising to use his falcon for faster delivery.

At some point later, Hermione excused herself and went to bed, promptly followed by Ginny. The boys were left alone in an uncomfortable silence. It was broken by Harry who looked embarrassed but determined.

'Viktor, I know it probably isn't my right to ask, but I have to know…do you still have any romantic interest in Hermione?'

Viktor looked at him, clearly bewildered.

'What makes you say that?'

'Oh, come on! She was the one thing most precious to you in the Triwizard Tournament; you arrived here all of a sudden. Now she's coming to Bulgaria with you. I just want to know what's going on.'

Surprisingly, Ron took Viktor's side.

'Hey, the tournament was three years ago, Harry. And it's not like he is staying in Bulgaria, he travels a lot with the team, don't you, Viktor?'

Viktor looked down at the floor and sighed.

'There is that…I don't play in the Bulgarian team any more.'

Both boys gasped in astonishment. Viktor lifted his robes a little and revealed a long ugly scar on his leg.

'A stupid collision during practice. I tore several ligaments and almost pulverized my kneecap. If I was a Muggle, I wouldn't be able to walk ever again, but even magic can only do so much.' He raised his eyes to meet the sympathetic looks of Harry and Ron. 'Don't look at me like that, I am allowed to fly; I can even play a friendly game. However, professional Quidditch is out of the question.'

Harry patted Viktor's back.

'I feel for you, mate. In Fifth year, there was that Ministry hag in Hogwarts, she tried to ban me from playing Quidditch for life. It sucks because you are one of the best, but at least you can still fly.'

'Yes, that counts for something. I still have most of the money I made during my short but stellar career, so now I can go to university on my own terms. I'd hate to be dependent on my parents.'

Harry raised his eyebrows.

'This brings us back to my question about Hermione.'

Viktor shifted in his seat.

'You'd think that I have a lot of friends, being an international Quidditch star, right?'

Both boys nodded in unison. The Bulgarian smiled wryly.

'I also thought so. Imagine what happened after it was announced that I'm retiring.'

Ron looked confused, but Harry's eyes glittered angrily.

'I suppose the same thing that happened to me after the Ministry proclaimed that I was a liar when I said that Voldemort was back.'

Viktor seemed startled for a moment, but then he nodded. 'Yes. In such times, you see who your real friends are. Mine turned out to be less than I can count on the fingers of my hand.'

Finally understanding dawned on Ron's face.

'So you came to see the one person who never cared that you are a Quidditch star.'

'Yes. I may have been infatuated with her three years ago, but now I see her only as a friend, a dear friend. I only wanted to see her, maybe cry on her shoulder a bit. It was pure chance that she needed a shoulder to cry on more than I did. I only suggested the university in Sofia after she told me about her late applications. So, as you see, I had no ulterior motives except establishing contact with an old friend. I have precious few left.'

Harry stood up and extended his hand to the Bulgarian and Ron followed quickly his example.

'I think I speak for both of us, but I'd like you to consider us amongst those few.'

Viktor looked surprised, but then smiled his rare full smile and shook their hands.

On the upper floor landing, Ginny quietly retreated to the bathroom after some benevolent eavesdropping. She was incredibly proud with both Harry and her brother—they seemed to grow up a little every single day.

One week later, Viktor's falcon returned with an apprenticeship contract and a personal letter from Master Borisov. She was having breakfast with Viktor at the Leaky Cauldron and the letter made her choke on her pumpkin juice.

_"Dearest Miss Granger,_

_I cannot thank you enough for the opportunity to be able to tell Severus Snape whenever I meet him that I am teaching the student who beat his Potions NEWT score. I am very impressed with your overall achievements and I am looking forward to our working relationship._

_George Borisov, Potions Master"_

After patting Hermione on the back, Viktor snatched the letter and read it quickly. He snorted and then started to laugh aloud.

'He is a loony old man, but he is one of the best. Sometimes his sense of humour is unnerving, but if you get past that, you can learn a lot from him.'

Hermione finally managed to clear her windpipe and wiped the tears from her eyes.

'Why would he want to tease Professor Snape? Are they on bad terms?'

'You mean you don't know? He apprenticed under Borisov. Borisov used to say that Snape was the best he ever taught, but he was too full of himself about his Potions skills. The old bear will not let him hear the end of this, mark my word.'

Hermione frowned. 'That's not very nice!'

Viktor shrugged. 'Crazy old men get their kicks in weird ways.'

Hermione thought about it and muttered, 'At least I hope he isn't stuffing his face with lemon drops all the time…'

She picked up the contract and read it over carefully. It was a pleasant surprise that all of the potions developed by her throughout the duration of her apprenticeship would remain in her name. Most of the masters took advantage of their apprentices and appropriated any ideas and projects as their own. She looked quizzically at Viktor. He read it over her shoulder and shrugged again.

'He has enough money and he is known as one of the best. He doesn't need to use you for fame or riches. Besides, the other masters will have kittens when they hear about that and he enjoys to provoke people, as I have already said.'

Hermione giggled and continued to read. There was no set time period for her to finish her studies. Her apprenticeship was considered over when the master felt that she had acquired all the necessary skills and knowledge, and when she passed the International Potions Master Examination. Overall, she felt very happy about the conditions of the contract and she pressed her wand to the indicated space. The parchment glowed for a second and disappeared. Viktor took her hand and gave her a brotherly kiss on the forehead.

'Congratulations, you are now officially an apprentice too.'

Hermione smiled contently. Viktor's own contract had arrived the day before and when she demanded an explanation, he told her all about his injury and his disappointment in his so-called "friends". At first, Hermione had a fit of righteous anger on his behalf. When she calmed down, she told him it was all for the better, because all those phoney people didn't deserve his friendship. She was very pleased about his choice of study, which was Transfiguration. She was also glad that she wouldn't be all alone in a foreign country and she awaited her departure with a lot less trepidation.

Hermione had already told her closest friends about her depression and her parents. The story brought fresh tears from the Weasleys, Andromeda Tonks, and Minerva McGonagall, but somehow she didn't feel guilty any more. After talking to everybody, she truly felt absolved. She tried sleeping alone and though an occasional nightmare still bothered her, it was never as vivid and tormenting as before. Molly was concerned about her going to university so far away, but Harry, Ron, and Ginny firmly supported her decision. Poor Viktor was invited to a family dinner at the Burrow and had to endure a long grilling about his intentions towards Hermione. Apparently, Molly had read too many tabloids and her mental image of him was of a no-good-maiden-seducing Lothario. That led to a lengthy explanation on Viktor's part about his friendship with Hermione and the end of his Quidditch career. Of which at that point, Molly had deflated and changed her tune. Soon, "the poor boy" was being fed and mothered to death, but he honestly didn't seem to mind too much. When he left, he was considered a part of Molly's flock.

There was only one thing Hermione needed to do before she left. After telling Kingsley the whole story, he gladly provided her with a second Portkey to Brisbane. This time, she took Harry with her for moral support. They visited Mrs. Sullivan and she beamed when she recognised Hermione.

'I am glad to see you, child! You looked so distressed last time and you left so suddenly. You look better now. Is that your young man?'

Hermione explained that, no, Harry wasn't her young man and enquired about her parents' graves. Mrs. Sullivan gave them both the address of the cemetery and directions. Soon they were standing in front of a granite tombstone. The plaque said, 'Wendell & Monica Wilkins, missed by all their friends.' Hermione caressed the cold stone.

'Look, Harry, there are fresh flowers. They had friends here; they had a life. They were happy.'

Harry squeezed her shoulder.

'Yes, it seems they were. It wasn't your fault, Hermione. You did everything in your powers to protect them. They wouldn't want you to feel responsible.'

She only nodded and knelt on the ground. Her fingers touched lightly on the soil and she thought, _'Goodbye, Mum. Goodbye, Dad. I love you.'_ She stood after several minutes and wiped her hands on her jeans.

'Come on, Harry, let's go. I need to pack.'

Harry took the Portkey from his pocket and they both grabbed it. He pressed his wand to it and they disappeared. Neither noticed the white carnations growing on the grave.

Severus gathered his notes carefully and stepped into the fireplace. A second later he arrived in his old master's office in the middle of a coughing fit. He brushed the soot off his shirt and glared at the smiling old man.

'For Merlin's sake, George, stop twinkling! You remind me of Dumbledore.'

Master Borisov's smile only broadened.

'Severus, charming as ever. Go, take a good look around so you will not have to travel in such an undignified manner again. Meanwhile, give me those notes.'

The old man put on a pair of glasses and started to read. An hour later, he lifted his eyes to look thoughtfully at Severus.

'This might just do it, but it needs a lot more work.'

'I know. I will speak to Vesna, maybe she can help.'

Severus collected the parchments and prepared to Apparate when George's voice stopped him.

'By the way, I will be teaching one of your students this year. An exceptional student if I may say so.'

He lifted an eyebrow in question. The old bear was up to something.

'I have never seen such NEWT scores, Severus! Why, she even beat your record, imagine that.'

Severus turned around slowly.

'Are you talking about Miss Granger? Hermione Granger?'

'Yes, the very same. I take it that you remember her?'

A slow smile was spreading across Severus Snape's face. So, he wouldn't have to return to England after all.

'Yes, I remember her very well. She will pester you with questions until you wish to silence her, but I am sure she will excel. It is good that you've told me; I will come to visit you when she arrives. I want to extend my personal congratulations about her NEWT score. Good day, George.'

Severus Disapparated, leaving behind a very bewildered and disappointed Master Borisov. He had so hoped to see Severus throw a fit, he wasn't known as a good loser. Maybe the boy had lost his edge after the war...pity.

**A/N:** My deepest gratitude to Gryffindor_Slytherin for beta-reading. Thanks to everyone who left a review, I really appreciate it.  
This chapter's title belongs to **Pink Floyd**.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Stranger in a Strange Land**

The bride was radiant; the groom was fidgeting; the bride's mother shed a lake full of tears, and the happy couple's kiss produced a satisfying amount of catcalls and whistles. Overall, Hermione decided that it was a model wedding. She quietly sipped on her champagne and watched as Harry and Ginny danced their first dance as a married couple. The sight painfully reminded her of Bill and Fleur's nuptials—the last moment of happiness before everything fell apart. This wedding was much more subdued, the Burrow wasn't bursting at the seams. Still it felt right, like a statement saying that even after the war, life went on.

Somebody touched her shoulder and she turned around to meet Viktor's amused eyes.

'It seems that we are destined to attend all Weasley weddings.' She snorted in response.

'There are four more Weasleys available for marriage, so watch out. There would have been five, but…'

Viktor shushed her. 'No sad thoughts today, Hermione. It is your friends' big day; don't ruin it with tears, unless they are from happiness.'

Hermione nodded in agreement and walked into the already crowded dance floor to congratulate the happy couple. Harry was currently dancing with Professor McGonagall, who gladly allowed her to cut in. Hermione smiled secretly; dancing would never be his strength. She took his hand and let him lead, inconspicuously minding her feet.

'So, Harry, have you heard that the wedding bands are the first two links of the chains of matrimony?'

He grinned and produced a roll of parchment from his pocket.

'Yes, I have. My _dear_ friends provided me with a list of horrendous quotes about marriage. However, they were stupid enough to sign it, so anytime I need a favour, I can just threaten to show it to Ginny and sic her on them.'

Hermione laughed and shook her head.

'Sometimes I forget that the Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin.'

Harry's look became serious.

'So, you are leaving tomorrow, huh? Are you sure about it?'

'I am certain. I will miss you all, but we can still owl each other. Conversations through the Floo at such long distances tend to come out garbled, but if I miss you too much, I could call just to hear your voices.'

'No need,' smiled Harry, 'I hooked up the telephone yesterday. You can always find a phone booth to call.'

Hermione laughed cheerfully and hugged Harry tightly.

'Thank you, you are truly the best friend a girl can have.'

'Hey, paws off my husband!' Ginny's voice floated through the crowd, 'Besides, I thought I was your best friend.'

Hermione extended her arm and included her into the hug.

'I hope the two of you will be very happy. I will call you as soon as I am settled there to tell you all about it. I think I should go to bed, though. I still tire easily. I'll see you tomorrow before I leave.'

She walked around the garden, saying her goodbyes to people and finally went to bed in Ginny's old bedroom. Both she and Ron were staying at the Burrow to let the newlyweds spend their wedding night at Grimmauld Place undisturbed.

Hermione was the first to wake up the next morning. Apparently, the party had continued well into the late hours, because even Molly and Arthur were not up yet. Hermione fixed herself a plate of leftover chicken and cheese, and sat on the table with a cup of tea. After a while, the Floo turned green and Viktor's head appeared.

'Umm…Mrs Weasley? Is there anyone awake yet?'

Hermione walked over to the fireplace.

'It's only me, Viktor; everyone is still sleeping. Come through, I'll get you some breakfast.'

He arrived in a whirl of brown robes. While he was dusting off the soot, Hermione noticed the decidedly red tinge on his cheeks.

'Hey, is everything okay? You look flushed.'

Viktor looked even more embarrassed.

'I was very sleepy when I woke up, so I forgot that everyone is here…and I Flooed at Grimmauld Place first.'

Hermione got an idea of the reason for his problem, but her evil streak urged her on.

'So, I take it that you saw something interesting?'

'I will only say that they were up having breakfast… I am sure they didn't see me, so I am the only one that is mortified. I never thought strawberry jam could have such interesting uses.'

It was Hermione's turn to blush. She stuck her fingers in her ears and shook her head violently.

'Now that was _way_ too much information.'

'You asked, I answered. Now did you say something about breakfast? But please, no strawberry jam.'

They were well into their second cup of tea before people started to come downstairs, groaning, holding onto their heads, and demanding a Hangover Potion. Fleur was the only person who looked stunning and radiant, as ever. Ron looked at her with bloodshot eyes and asked with a raspy voice.

'How come you don't feel sick?'

Fleur wrinkled her nose and answered haughtily, 'Because I never drink, petit frère. It is bad for ze skin.'

Ron glared accusingly at the couple and asked, 'So why did you come down so late?'

'We were occupied, Ronald. Do you need details?' Ron blushed furiously. Fleur only smiled and patted him on the arm.

'Now go get some 'angover potion from ze cabinet like a good boy.'

Ron accepted defeat and retreated in search of the much-needed potion under the mirthful gaze of his brothers. Meanwhile, Mrs Weasley arrived in the kitchen, looking pale and tired.

'Your father has been very ill throughout the night. I told him that he is too old to drink like a schoolboy, but does he listen to me? Ron, give me one of those bottles.' She disappeared up the stairs and soon returned, supporting a very ashamed looking Mr Weasley.

Half an hour later, the Floo turned green again. This time Harry and Ginny stepped through, greeted by catcalls and ambiguous jokes. Only Viktor and Hermione turned beet red and kept quiet. After Molly had restored order, the whole family finally gathered around the table. Hermione stood up.

'I am very happy to be here with you, but our Portkey leaves in an hour and I have to get ready. So I want to say goodbye to everyone.'

She was promptly engulfed by a sea of red hair as everyone wished her farewell. Molly cried a little and made her promise to write often. She proceeded to hug Viktor, who looked a little startled, but returned the hug awkwardly. Harry kissed her on the cheek and patted Viktor on the back. Ginny squeezed her hands and whispered 'Good luck!'

Finally, they Apparated to her room in Grimmauld Place. The bookshelves were bare; all of her belongings were packed in two large trunks. Hermione looked around and asked, 'Do you think I forgot to pack something?'

Viktor sighed wearily.

'Yes, the bed and maybe the room itself. Come on, Hermione, you never forget things!'

'Yeah,' she muttered, 'except my application letters. Is it time yet?'

Viktor looked at his watch, and quickly shrank and pocketed her trunks.

'Almost—five more minutes. Here, touch this.' He produced a coin from his pocket. Taking in her anxious expression, he held it out and said, 'I am sure you will do fine. So far you have gone through much worse things and I believe you can handle anything the fates throw at you.'

Hermione smiled thankfully. She really needed the reassurance. Taking in a deep breath, she touched the coin. Moments later, it glowed and they were gone.

Hermione appeared on a green lawn, still holding the coin together with Viktor. She shook her head a little to regain orientation and looked around. They were standing in front of a small white house with a porch and a huge garden. A large, grey-haired man looked up from the tulip bed he was currently tending and broke into a huge grin. He yelled something in Bulgarian towards the house and stood up to greet them.

'This is my father,' whispered Viktor in her ear.

'I can see that.' It was true, the man looked exactly like Viktor with broad shoulders, tanned skin, and a hooked nose. He approached them and patted his son on the back. Then he turned to Hermione.

'You must be Miss Granger. My name is Ivan Krum. Welcome to our humble abode.'

'I am pleased to meet you, Mr Krum.'

Meanwhile, a short slim woman appeared on the porch and ran towards them, enveloping Viktor in a tight hug. He looked mortified, especially when she dragged his face down and kissed him. Finally, she let him go and looked at Hermione. Apparently pleased with what she saw, she turned to her husband and said something in Bulgarian. Viktor's father smiled and explained.

'This is Ana, my wife. She does not speak English at all. She said that she is happy to meet you and it is a pity that you and Viktor are only friends. She thinks you are a very pretty young lady.'

Hermione and Viktor both blushed and he said, 'You can assure Mother that we are indeed only friends. She can stop the matchmaking.'

Ivan guffawed and rolled his eyes. 'When Hell freezes over, my boy. Now come inside and to rest and have lunch. Later, you can take Hermione to see the University and to meet George.'

Hermione raised her eyebrows in question towards Viktor. He shuffled his feet and grinned.

'Did I fail to mention that Master Borisov is an old family friend?' Hermione glared at him.

'Yes, you did! Any other important facts I should know about?'

'Yes. My dad grows the best tomatoes ever and I am starved. So, stop frowning and come inside to eat.

After a pleasant lunch with the Krums, Viktor took Hermione's hand and Apparated them to a large lobby.

'This is the Apparition point for downtown Sofia. It is in our Ministry building.' Another witch popped in and quickly left via a large glass door. They followed and walked out onto a small street with cars parked everywhere along the sidewalk. Hermione turned around to look at the building and saw only a grubby-looking antique shop.

'This is like the Leaky Cauldron, only wizards and witches can see it. As you see, we are hiding in plain sight. Our magical community is very small and we mostly live among the Muggles. That is why robes are not very convenient to wear, unless you are proficient in glamour charms. We could Apparate to the university, but the weather is nice and I suggest a walk.'

He led her through the streets, pointing out street names and shops, until Hermione's head was swimming full of information. It was hot, noisy, and crowded, but she still liked it. After about twenty minutes, they reached a huge white building with large domes and the statues of two men seated at the facade.

'This is the Muggle Sofia University. These are the statues of two of the founders. The entrance to the Wizarding University is through here.' Viktor led her through a small side entrance and they arrived at a large courtyard, full of young people. They were sitting on benches, playing games, or just reading.

'Most of them are Muggle students. The Wizarding Department is relatively small and some of the students don't feel comfortable mingling with Muggles. Come, I will show you the entrance.'

They approached an empty alleyway and as soon as they turned the corner, a large wooden door appeared out of nowhere. Viktor pushed it and they entered. Hermione looked around; they were in a small room, which contained two chairs and a large wooden desk. The witch behind the desk had small beady eyes and a huge crown of flaming orange hair. Her face was pinched as if she had a lemon permanently lodged in her mouth.

The witched looked up from the paper she was scribbling on and glared at them.

'Well? What do you want, I don't have all day?'

Hermione cringed away from the hag, but Viktor just scowled and walked over to the desk.

'I am Viktor Krum and this is Hermione Granger. We are to be first-year apprentices; we need to have our wands adjusted to allow entrance.'

'I will need to check the registry, if you don't mind.' The woman produced a huge scroll and scanned it carefully.

'Everything seems in order. Press your wands to the circle next to your name, please.'

Hermione looked at the list. Next to her name was a small black circle. When she pressed her wand, it glowed and changed colour to gold. Upon closer inspection, her wand had acquired a small golden circle near the handle as well. Viktor spoke behind her.

'This works as a pass to the university facilities—the building, the library, the canteen. There are hidden classrooms in the Muggle building as well. This way the wards will recognize you.' He followed suit and acquired his own golden circle.

The woman rolled up the list and glared at them.

'Go on, do whatever you came here for, or leave. I have work to do.'

Viktor pointed to a door, which had appeared on the left wall.

'Through here are the staff offices. Let's go in, I think Uncle George will be in at this time.' They walked through the door and into a circular tower. A staircase winded along the wall. Viktor led her towards the first step and clearly said, 'Master George Borisov's office.' The staircase suddenly moved and slid along the wall until it almost reached the top of the tower. They stood in front of a large oak door, which had words written in Cyrillic. When Hermione looked at it closely, the letters morphed into English: 'George Borisov, Potions Master.' Hermione looked at Viktor, surprised and he explained.

'This is an international university, Hermione, and most of the students come from neighbouring countries. All signs are charmed to change into the adequate language. Most students know English to some extent, but it's not a requirement. This makes things easier for everyone.'

He knocked on the door and yelled, 'Uncle George, are you there?'

Heavy footsteps sounded behind the door and it promptly opened, revealing a large, white-bearded man. His face was kind and he wore glasses, but that was where the resemblance to Headmaster Dumbledore ended. This man was large, both tall and broad. She immediately understood why Viktor had called him "the old bear." His robes were in standard academic black, but Hermione's wand-hand itched to change them to red, only to see a living incarnation of Father Christmas. The man looked her up and down and extended his hand.

'You must be Miss Granger, young lady. I am very pleased to finally meet you, George Borisov, at your service.' He turned to Viktor and patted him on the shoulder. 'Good to see you again, Viktor. I am glad that you will be joining the ranks of academics. I have always said that it is criminal to let that mind go to waste. I hope those Bludgers didn't do too much damage. Please, come in.'

They walked into the man's office and settled on the two available armchairs. Master Borisov sat behind his desk and smiled benevolently.

'Miss Granger, I am sure that you will find the apprenticeship here a bit different from the experience of western universities. I don't stick to the usual practices that pass as unwritten laws in the guild. For one, you will have a set number of attendance hours per day, which may vary of course, but you will not be at my beck and call. As your studies progress, the time I spend lecturing and setting assignments will lessen, and you will have more time to do private research. I will be available for help and a professional opinion, but otherwise it will be your own decision what to work on. The other thing is that you are also a student at the Magical University of Sofia, and you can enrol in various courses, if you wish to do so. I would recommend Advanced Arithmancy, as well as Theory of Curses. Many potions are curse antidotes, and it helps if you understand the dynamics of this particular area of magic. Classes will start on the first of October. Any questions?' he asked and leaned on his desk.

Hermione just shook her head, overwhelmed.

'Good!' he exclaimed, 'now that we are done with the official business, we can have some refreshments and talk about more pleasant topics.' He lifted his wand and asked Hermione, 'Would you like tea? If you feel adventurous, I could surprise you with something local.'

She couldn't keep from smiling, the man's easy-going manner appealed to her.

'Thank you, Master Borisov, surprise me.'

He summoned a large pitcher of white fluid with ice cubes floating in, and three glasses. The pitcher floated around the desk and poured the mysterious beverage. Hermione sniffed hers and took a tentative sip. It was slightly sour, cold, and surprisingly refreshing. She nodded her approval to both of them and they smiled.

'This is yoghurt mixed with water, Hermione,' explained Viktor. 'There is nothing better to quench your thirst on a hot day.'

Master Borisov nudged the pitcher to pour him another glass and relaxed back into his chair.

'Now, Miss Granger, may I ask why you chose Potions as your field? It is a very time-consuming profession, it requires spending hours in gloomy labs and it's bad for the complexion—a strange choice for a beautiful young lady such as yourself. Not that I mind, I am proud to have you as my student. I am just wondering.'

Hermione smirked and asked, 'I understand that Professor Snape was your apprentice and you are well acquainted with him, right?' The man nodded. 'Are you familiar with the speech he gives to the first years at their first Potions lesson?' Master Borisov shook his head slowly, his eyes glinting with interest. Hermione took a deep breath and recited from memory:

'You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses ... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death,' she paused for dramatic effect and then continued with a grin, 'if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.'

Master Borisov just stared at her, and then burst out in laughter, so loud that the windowpanes rattled. It took him several minutes to compose himself. Finally, he managed to suppress his sniggers and took in a deep breath.

'Merlin's pants, I could almost hear him saying that. The boy has a taste for drama, this cannot be denied. At least he got rid of those long billowing robes when he came to Greece; he looks more human now.'

Hermione snapped to attention immediately.

'You've seen Professor Snape?'

'Yes, he visited a few days ago. He needed an opinion on his current research. And no, I cannot tell you what it is about.'

Hermione couldn't hide her disappointed look. She was sure that whatever Snape was researching would have been interesting.

Master Borisov looked at his watch and stood up.

'I will be going to a staff meeting, so regretfully, this is goodbye for now. Viktor, please send your parents my deepest regards. Hermione, I look forward to seeing you in class.' He ushered them out of his office and they left via the moving staircase.

Hermione squinted at the bright sunshine. She felt overwhelmed with impressions, but overall, she thought she had made the right decision. Viktor interrupted her train of thought.

'Hermione, have you decided where you want to live?'

Her brow furrowed. She hadn't really thought of that before.

'What are my options?'

'The university has accommodations for students, but the rooms are shared and not very spacious. Your book collection alone would fill one of them. You could find your own place, or you could stay with me.' He looked at her hopefully. 'I bought a flat nearby; it has two bedrooms and a living room, plus a small kitchen. I would really like it if you moved in with me.'

Hermione weighed the options. She didn't want to be cramped in a small room with a total stranger, but she didn't want to live all alone in a new place, either. Viktor's offer seemed the only reasonable thing to do. She sighed and waved him on.

'All right, show me your humble dwelling, Mr Krum. Later, we can get my stuff from your parents' house and check if your father has more of those tomatoes.'

Severus awoke with a start, grasping his wand. A melodious, but somewhat irritated voice chided him.

'Stop pointing that stupid piece of wood at me, Severus Snape. Get up and meet me outside.' A soft rustle of feet announced his visitor's departure.

Severus fell back and groaned into his pillow. Vesna could be infuriating sometimes.

Ten minutes later, he walked out of his cottage and found her sitting on his makeshift table, eating a peach. He scowled at her.

'I see you have found my peach tree.'

'Yes, you do grow the most delightful peaches. I helped myself to your fireplace and your coffee. Do you want some?' she smiled serenely.

Severus gritted his teeth, but decided that she could be forgiven in exchange for hot coffee. He poured himself some from the small coffeepot and asked, 'What brings you here at this obscene hour?'

She glanced at the sky and remarked, 'I don't see anything obscene, after all the sun is already up.'

Severus squeezed his mug with a death grip and ground out, 'Vesna, it is barely past five in the morning. Not that I don't enjoy your company, but I suppose there is some purpose to your visit?'

She sighed and placed her mug on the table.

'Have you found the girl yet? I felt her again about a ten days ago.'

He looked up, interested.

'You felt her? Where?'

'In Australia. I found it strange, since you said she was in England.'

'Her parents live there,' he muttered. 'Anyway, I don't need to look for her. She is coming to Bulgaria to apprentice with George.'

Vesna clapped her hands in delight.

'This is just wonderful, Severus. So you have decided to teach her?'

He scowled and raised his hand.

'I will talk to her, Vesna, and I will explain what it is all about. If she has a desire to learn, then I will teach her.'

'Good. Now, how is your research coming along?'

He sighed deeply and his shoulders slumped.

'I have not made much progress since the last time we spoke. I have some theories, but they still need a lot of work.'

'Do not despair. If anyone could undo the evil that was done, it would be you. Maybe the girl could help you?'

He huffed and stood up.

'Go away, Vesna. You woke me anyway, so I might as well tend to my herbs.'

She smiled at him and stood up.

'Do call me when you bring her here, Severus. I will be delighted to meet such an extraordinary young woman,' and with a shimmer, she was gone.

'Extraordinary indeed,' muttered Severus and went to retrieve his gardening shears. He fully intended to visit George one of these days and to find out exactly when Miss Granger was due to arrive. He wondered whether she followed his advice about her depression. Well, he would find out soon enough.

Hermione was delighted with Viktor's flat. It was concealed at the top floor of an old building very close to the university. Her bedroom was large enough to house all her precious books without becoming cramped. When they went to his parents to retrieve her things, his mother started grumbling; apparently, she thought it was inappropriate for them to live together unsupervised. Mr Krum only smiled at them and assured the worried Hermione that his wife would come around soon.

The next week Viktor dragged her around the city to show her some of the Wizarding shops and soon she felt comfortable going out alone without fear of getting lost. She had forgone her robes entirely and felt very happy to wear her Muggle clothes all the time. So, when she walked out of university after enrolling for elective courses, she was indistinguishable from all the Muggle students walking the streets of Sofia. Then, as she walked past her favourite cafe and paused, considering an espresso before she went home, she glanced at one of the tables and had the surprise of her life. The most unlikely person to sit and bask in the mellow sunshine was currently looking at her above his newspaper, smirking in his own, unmistakeable way.

**A/N:** Thanks to Gryffindor_Slytherin for beta-reading. This chapter's title belongs to **U2**. Every single review is treasured :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Time of the Truth**

There he was, though at first she thought she was mistaken. The Severus Snape she knew lurked in gloomy dungeons and dressed in heavy black robes. He didn't sit in sunny cafés, wearing merely a shirt and trousers, yet there he was. The sickly pallor of his skin was gone; the yellowish hue was replaced by the complexion of a naturally pale person. It still created a striking contrast; his fair skin and black hair were spilling over the white shirt; he looked like a cut-out from a monochrome photograph. He looked healthier that she had ever seen him before.

'Do close your mouth, Miss Granger. Did no one ever teach you that it is impolite to stare?'

Hermione realised that she was indeed gawking, quite rudely and hurried to apologise.

'I am sorry, sir. I did not expect to see you here of all places.'

'I reside in a neighbouring country and I decided to pay my old master a visit. Few people would recognise me here, so I thought it was safe to enjoy a cup of coffee and a milder climate. Apparently, I was mistaken. Would you care to join me?' He gestured to the empty chair.

She sat down tentatively and ordered an espresso when the waitress arrived. He was the one who broke the uncomfortable silence.

'I must congratulate you on your apprenticeship. George is one of the best in the field. I still visit him occasionally to ask his opinion.'

'Yes, he told me that he meets with you. He wouldn't tell me about your research, though.'

He found the disappointment in her voice amusing.

'I suppose he told you it was my story to tell?'

'Something along those lines; so will you? Tell me, I mean.'

Severus weighed his options. He had to tell her about the Wielding situation anyway, and this was a perfect opening.

'Miss Granger, I admit that I had wanted to speak to you about something important, something that is closely related to the subject of my research. However, we will need more time and this is not the place for such a conversation. Would you like to visit my cottage tomorrow? You could Floo directly from George's office.'

Hermione's eyes widened. He was actually going to tell her? She wouldn't have to beg? _Curiouser and curiouser…_

'Certainly, sir. I don't start classes for another week, so I am free tomorrow.'

Snape laced his fingers and leaned back in his chair.

'Now, I must admit that I am curious about what took place after our correspondence? You seem well enough to me. Are you still having nightmares?'

Hermione stared at her coffee cup for a long time and Severus somehow felt as an intruder.

'I apologise, I see that the topic is sensitive.'

She shook her head and smiled weakly.

'No, I will tell you. I just needed to gather my thoughts…now it seems to me that I was a different person then. I went to Australia to retrieve my parents. It turned out that there was a cyclone near Brisbane several months ago. Both of them were dead.'

Severus shut his eyes and cursed silently. He could only imagine what that piece of news did to someone in a fragile state of mind.

'I somehow arrived home. I decided that I really had to speak to my friends. However, just that evening Harry and Ginny announced their engagement. So I couldn't do it.' She raised her eyes. 'Come on, tell me I was a foolish Gryffindor.'

'You were, I wouldn't expect any less from you.' Her eyes widened slightly at the veiled compliment, but she continued her story without comment.

'On the next day I had a surprise visit from an old friend, Viktor Krum. When he came to see me, I was nearly catatonic. He asked what was wrong and he wouldn't back down. He yelled at me, he yelled at Harry for not noticing sooner that there was something wrong with me. Merlin, the git actually dragged me down to the hallway mirror to show me that I looked like death warmed over. You could say he brought me back from the brink of madness.' She started laughing. 'Can you imagine that I had forgotten to send my application letters, sir? _Me!_ Forget about _school!_'

Severus' lips twitched without amusement. It was true, if this girl forgot about her education, she was too far gone. He sympathised with Krum with a stab of anger towards Potter and Weasley. _Best friends indeed._

Hermione continued her tale of woe.

'I was better after I talked to him. It broke the dam; afterwards, I talked to Harry, Ron, and Ginny. I took your advice from the letter and had Ginny stay in my room. Viktor told me about this apprenticeship program, so here I am. I rarely have nightmares anymore. When I do, I feel detached and I can always make them go away.'

Severus stared into her eyes. The pain was still there, but it was something buried deep down at the bottom. _Acceptance... I wish I could do that._ He stood up abruptly.

'I have to go, Miss Granger. I will inform George that you will visit me tomorrow via his Floo. At what time shall I expect you?'

'About nine in the morning, is that convenient?'

'Yes, it is. Until tomorrow, then.' And he was gone, just like that. Hermione watched him go. He looked odd without his billowing robes. She glanced at the table—he had left enough money for both their coffees. She shrugged and stood up, heading home. The whole encounter seemed surreal. Still, she couldn't wait to visit.

Exactly at quarter to nine on the next morning, Hermione knocked on Master Borisov's door. He opened it and greeted her.

'Good morning, Miss Granger! I understand that you will be visiting Severus?'

She nodded.

'Very well.' He took a handful of Floo powder and threw it in, clearly saying 'Severus Snape's cottage'. The fire turned green and Hermione stepped forward into the whirlwind of green flames.

She stumbled out of the fireplace, but a strong hand grabbed her shoulder and steadied her. She looked up to see Snape smirking at her.

'The worst way to travel, I believe. Good morning, Miss Granger. Come outside.'

She followed him and gasped when she walked out of the cottage. They were apparently somewhere in the mountains. There was a garden with fruit trees and herbs around the house. Snape was sitting on a bench next to a wooden table, looking very out of place amongst the bright warm colours of summer. His dark eyes studied her intently and he gestured to another seat.

'Please, sit down. Before we discuss my research, I will give you something to read. It may seem irrelevant, but please bear with me. When you finish, we will speak.' He handed her a thick tome and opened it at the beginning. Hermione glanced at him in confusion. He clicked his tongue impatiently.

'Read, Miss Granger!'

She shrugged and took the book.

_**"The history of wizards goes back to the dawn of humanity. There were always the ones who could heal wounds, who could find food and water, the wise folk, the shamans. As humanity developed, so did the wizards. While the ancestors of what we call 'Muggles' worked with tools and created the rudiments of technology, the ancient wizards studied magic, they created the first wands and the first real spells. After a while, the two groups started fearing each other. Muggles feared the wizards' powers; the wizards feared the sheer numbers of the Muggles. So, wizards decided to hide. They erected magical barriers that the Muggles could not see. They invented the Muggle-repelling charms.**_

_**Ever since the beginning, there were always wizards who had special skills. The Metamorphmagi could assume any shape and form with only their will. The Animagi could change into animals. The Wielders, the most powerful of all, could tap into the life force of the Earth. Every living thing releases its life force into Earth after it dies. It lays there, an immense source of life energy, waiting to be used again. They could make crops grow on barren soil; they could heal a mortal wound. They all had a strict moral code, for no Wielder would ever draw life from a living thing, anyone who did could never Wield again. Few were those who tried because they lived in harmony with nature and they respected every life, from the human to the smallest flower. If they picked a plant or killed an animal, it was always for food, shelter, or medicine, and they never used their powers to kill.**_

_**However, even amongst the noblest of humans, a villain can be born. Graolf was his name and he was the most powerful Wielder in his generation. Conceited and power hungry, he was never satisfied with what he had. He studied the darkest of rituals and he managed to create a curse, a curse that enabled anyone who uttered it to drain the life of the target. Graolf died in the process, because he incorporated his Wielding power into the curse itself.**_

_**Since then, the Wielders were feared and hunted everywhere. People did not remember their good deeds; they only remembered Graolf and his Unforgivable curse. As wizards and witches went in hiding from the Muggles, the Wielders went in hiding from their own kind. They are believed to be almost extinct and every effort was made to erase them from history. Wielders still exist though, and they walk amongst wizards, but they never show their skills. Their lore is passed down from generation to generation, because Wielding is often inherited, especially from the mother. They all bear the collective guilt that one of their own created the darkest existing curse. Legend says that one day another Wielder shall undo the evil that was done by Graolf. However, to this day, no one has succeeded. All we can do is hope."**_

Hermione looked up from the text, her mouth hanging open in shock.

'Are you…are you one of these Wielders?'

He nodded.

Her eyes lit up. 'Professor, this is amazing! How is it possible that I have never read anything about it?'

Severus sighed in exasperation.

'The last paragraph explains that, I believe. It is forbidden knowledge. Even today, the use of Wielding is as grave a crime as the use of any Unforgivable; it is punishable by a life sentence in Azkaban. A Wielder would never disclose himself willingly, and the ones who know of their existence believe that it is bad luck to even utter the word.'

She was staring forward, chewing on her lip furiously. He could almost see the wheels turning inside her head.

'Graolf's curse…it is Avada Kedavra, isn't it?'

'Yes. There is no other curse that kills instantly. It has no counter-curse because it does not evoke ordinary magic. In the old days, it was the only Unforgivable; the others were added only about a century ago.'

Hermione rested her forehead in her hands and sighed.

'This is what you are working on, right? You are trying to counter the Killing Curse.'

'Perceptive as always, Miss Granger.'

'What I cannot understand is why you are telling me all this?'

'As I said, a Wielder would willingly disclose himself only to another Wielder. You were not paying attention.' He held his breath, waiting for her to catch on.

Hermione's eyes snapped up and all colour drained from her face. She shook her head.

'Oh no. You have to be joking. I am not a Wielder! Even if I was, how would YOU know?'

He scowled and barked at her.

'Control your temper, Miss Granger. I rarely joke, and never about matters that are serious. Please, remember the moment in the Shrieking Shack when you saved my life.'

'What about it?'

'Recount it, with details.'

'I found you on the ground and I heard a gurgling noise. I realised you were alive. I tried to heal you, but the spell wasn't working. I tried again, but I was so tired…I braced myself on the ground…' she stopped and looked at him in horror.

'Yes, you have to touch the ground in order to tap into the force. That was what you did, but along with it, you used up almost all of your magic for the spell itself.'

She shook her head in disbelief.

'How can you be sure?'

'I found a flower on the floor of their Shrieking Shack, Miss Granger. A single red flower had grown exactly on the spot where you had healed me. It happens, when you do not properly channel everything you have drawn. It seeks to ground itself into something. In this case, it found a seed.'

Hermione stared forlornly at her shoes. Severus sighed.

'It is not a bad thing, Miss Granger. It is a gift. You will have to be careful around others, but I fail to see the tragedy.'

'It is just so…sudden, sir. Everything was falling into its place; I was having a normal life for a change, and now this.'

Severus sneered at her. 'I never thought I would hear you whining, Miss Granger.'

She straightened her shoulders and glared at him.

'Okay, show me.'

He blinked. 'I beg your pardon?'

'Show me how you do it, I want to see.'

Severus rolled his eyes. He slipped down to the ground and touched the soil between the blades of grass. It was easy; the meadow was brimming with life. He concentrated and found what he was looking for. Several minutes later, he opened his eyes.

Hermione couldn't look away from the sight. He was sitting on the ground, touching the soil, and a small seedling appeared beneath his fingers. She stared in amazement at the flower, which in the matter of minutes grew to full height, budded, and finally opened a single bloom. The oddest thing, however, was the expression on his face. He looked serene and almost…happy, a look she never thought she would see on Severus Snape's face. When he opened his eyes and looked at her, she couldn't contain her excitement.

'Professor, that was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Will you teach me?'

He stared at the flower and caressed it with one finger. Standing up, he dusted off his trousers and said wearily, 'Teaching you seems to be my destiny, Miss Granger. As all types of magic, in moments of stress or emotional instability, Wielding can be expressed involuntarily. It needs to be learned and controlled. We will begin after breakfast.'

He went inside the cottage and brought out a plate full of fruit and cheese. He plonked it in front of her and ordered, 'Eat! You will need your strength.'

**A/N:** Thanks to **Gryffindor_Slytherin** for still doing an amazing job and putting up with my atrocious grammar. Hugs and kisses to everyone who left a review, it really means a lot to me. I am very happy that people actually like my writing!  
This chapter's title belongs to **Axel Rudi Pell**.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Pagan Poetry**

Severus brewed a pot of coffee, slowly and methodically. While he was waiting for the foam to rise, he glanced occasionally at Miss Granger. She was eating her breakfast obediently. The girl was much more subdued than he had remembered her. As much as he used to complain about her incessant chatter, in some ways he missed the crackling energy that used to surround her. She still had it; it was evident from her last remark to him. If something could bring out the overexcited first-year student in Hermione Granger, it was the chance of learning something new.

He glanced at the pot and quickly pulled it away from the fire. He had to teach her how to Wield, and he had done that only once before. She had also been a vibrant, lively girl, with a profound love for knowledge and respect for life. He had taught her, wishing to share this beautiful secret with her, to cement their friendship. He still believed that had sealed her fate. He glanced down at his trembling hands and cursed quietly. _Get a hold of yourself—you can do it. History doesn't have to repeat itself._

Quiet steps approached him from behind.

'I am ready to begin, sir.'

He carefully poured the jet-black coffee into two thick mugs and turned around. She was staring at him earnestly, biting her lip, clearly anxious. He thrust one of the mugs into her hands and pointed at the bench.

'Sit!' She flinched slightly and he realised that his nervousness was making his tone too harsh. 'Please.'

Hermione sat carefully and sipped on her coffee. Severus sat next to her and contemplated his own mug for a moment, thinking about the best way to start.

'Give me your hand, Miss Granger.' She startled at first, and then slowly slipped her small hand into his. It was warm; she had always thought he would be cold and clammy.

'Now close your eyes, and think. Think about all the invisible processes that make a living being alive. Imagine life as a current that flows through my body.'

She closed her eyes and frowned slightly in concentration.

'Now, try to feel it with your fingertips. It is there, you just have to reach.'

She frowned deeper until a radiant smile smoothed her features, at the exact moment he felt her make contact.

'It is incredible…it feels as if my fingers are submerged in something, yet I can feel them touching your skin.' She giggled slightly. 'It tickles.'

Severus felt a stab in his heart. _She_ had said the exact same thing.

'Yes,' he said softly, 'it tickles. It feels similar to touching memories in a Pensieve.'

Her brow furrowed. 'Maybe. I wouldn't know, I have never used one.'

'I think that is enough. Now release my hand, slowly.'

When she started to draw away, she felt a strange sensation—as if the gentle current surged in her direction, unwilling to let go. She dropped his hand and they both felt the connection break. She opened her eyes and stared at her hand with wonder.

'Is it always so easy? I thought it would be hard.'

'It is easier with a living creature, because the current is structured. When you connect to the pool, it is chaotic, amorphous, going in all directions, and all too eager to be used. The hard thing about Wielding is learning to control it, Miss Granger.'

She looked doubtful and Severus sighed.

'I suppose you will have to see for yourself. Sit on the ground, it will be easier.'

Hermione obeyed and lowered herself to the grass a few meters away from the bench.

'When you touch the ground, reach with your mind the way you did with me. You are going to have the same sensation of touching a fluid, but the tickling will be intensified. Life does not like staying idle; it wants to be channelled. You will need to block that, because now you are conscious of your powers. If you don't learn to block, flowers will be sprouting around you every time you sit down on the ground.'

Hermione pressed her fingertips into the soil. She imagined the current and reached. Suddenly, there was a wild, bordering on painful tingling in her hand and she felt the connection. This time, it was not a gentle flow; it was a wild and stormy ocean. She realized what Snape meant when he said it was too eager. It was seeping through her like liquid through a straw, looking for something to ground itself into. She tried to push down, but it was too strong and she started to panic, because she couldn't break the contact. Then she felt another presence in the current. It reached around her somehow and neatly cut the flow.

Hermione opened her eyes and saw the sky. Then something moved beneath her with a groan and she gasped in horror. Scrambling off Snape, she tried to help him up, apologizing profusely. He held up his hand.

'It's not your fault, Miss Granger. I had to pull you away physically as well, so when I cut the contact, we were both thrown back.'

He stood up and walked over to the table to pick up his coffee, bringing along hers as well. She just stared at the patch of flowers that her uncontrolled attempt had produced.

'We shall need to train extensively, Miss Granger. You are very strong and you will need practice and discipline to control the flow.'

'How…how can anyone control this? Wouldn't controlling a hurricane would be easier?'

'You need to learn restraint, Miss Granger. Your Gryffindor personality makes you rush into everything with all your heart and soul.'

Hermione bristled, ready to argue, but Severus held up his hand.

'I did not mean it as an insult, I merely stated the reason you found it hard to block. You just rushed into an enormous pool of life force with all your enthusiasm. It is natural that it rushed right back at you.'

She looked down, chastened. She was too used to hearing the word 'Gryffindor' only as a derogatory comment from his mouth. Old habits die hard.

'When you released my hand before, did you feel something unusual?'

She raised her eyes sharply.

'Yes, I meant to ask you. It was as if…my fingers were sticky. It didn't want to let go.'

'There is your answer. Life has an affinity to life. When you connect to the pool, you had created a channel for the wild, uncontained life force. If you hurl yourself in without thinking, you would create a huge gate, which is very hard to close. You need to hold back, to keep the channel small. Then, you let only a trickle pass through. A trickle is easy to direct, a flood is uncontrollable.'

Hermione sighed.

'I understand, Professor. It seems I have a lot to learn. How did you manage to break the connection?'

His face tightened and he answered curtly.

'You are not the first I had to teach. I have had to become an expert on flood management.'

He rose from the bench and stared into space.

'That was enough for today, Miss Granger. You should go home and rest. I suggest that we meet again during the weekend, so please owl me with details. I will ask you to keep this a secret, even from your friends. Wielding is considered one of the Dark Arts; I wouldn't want either of us ending up in Azkaban.'

Hermione nodded and rose as well.

'I realise that, Professor. I will keep quiet. Could I have your permission to Apparate here when we meet next? Floo travel is not my favourite mode of transportation.'

Severus smirked, remembering her tumble out of his fireplace.

'In this, I share your opinion. You may Apparate the next time. Farewell, Miss Granger.'

'Goodbye, Professor.' She stood up straight and prepared to Apparate, when his voice stopped her.

'One moment, Miss Granger. Are you still in contact with Mr. Krum?'

She nodded, wondering what he meant by such a question. He rubbed his chin in thought.

'Speaking to him about this would be safe, if you feel the need.'

'Professor, we have an agreement! I am not going to blab everything to someone, I can keep a secret!' She looked truly hurt.

'I know that. Nevertheless, I meant to say that I believe Mr. Krum has an open mind about this. Go ahead and tell him. You will understand when you speak to him.'

Hermione just stared at him for a moment and then Apparated, without saying a word.

Arriving in the flat, Hermione shed her jacket and threw herself on her bed, deep in thought. Again, she looked at her fingers with awe. It was an unbelievable sensation; she finally understood the serene look that had surprised her on Snape's face. She also understood better the text she had read about Wielding. She had literally touched the miracle of life with her own bare fingertips. How could anyone even contemplate killing when life felt so wonderful? She thought about Graolf and shuddered. It was inconceivable that someone could use something so pure to create the Killing Curse.

Hermione rubbed her temples. All the loose information in her brain made her head ache. She remembered Snape's words about Viktor and decided to talk to him. She walked over to her flatmate's closed door and knocked quietly. A minute later, he opened the door with a big smile.

'Hello there, I didn't know you were back. Come in and tell me what happened with Snape.'

She walked around him and sat down on the bed, chewing her lip. She didn't know quite how to begin. Viktor sat next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

'Hey, is everything all right? Was he mean to you?'

'No, no, nothing like that. He just told me some things that are hard to digest. And he told me I should speak to you about it.'

Viktor relaxed visibly and urged her on.

'Well come on, say it. It can't be that bad.'

Hermione took a deep breath and asked, 'Does the word "Wielding" mean anything to you?'

Viktor immediately stiffened and withdrew his arm from her shoulder as if burnt.

'Yes. I know it is something you shouldn't speak about. We don't use the same word in Bulgaria, but it isn't safe nevertheless. And I don't see what business he had telling you about it.' He looked angry and worried.

Hermione wrenched her hand in her lap.

'Well…he did actually…because I can do it. I didn't even know until today. He said I could speak to you, that you would understand, but apparently, he was wrong. I'm sorry, forget I ever mentioned it.'

Viktor stared at her in amazement.

'You are…you are one of the Ancients?'

'Umm…if that is what you call it.'

He stood up and started pacing the room. The he stopped abruptly and stared at her.

'I would never tell on you, though I don't know how Snape knew. But you should never, under any circumstances, speak to anyone about this. Do you understand, Hermione?'

Taken aback by his fierceness, she nodded quickly.

'Yes, Viktor, I know. He told me as much himself, I also read an old document. It said that Wielders were hunted down and killed, and it is still considered Dark Arts.'

Viktor growled and sat next to her again. Taking a deep breath, he took her hands and looked into her eyes.

'I am going to tell you a story and you will understand why I am so worried about this. When I was a little boy, my great-grandfather was still alive. He was a very good man, always smiling. He used to read stories to me and my cousins, he sang all the time. The thing about him was that he didn't have both his hands from the wrists down.'

Hermione gasped in shock. Viktor continued on.

'When we asked, everyone told us that Great-Grandpa had lost his hands in some war because of frostbite. We believed that he was a Muggle then. He was very old, but longevity is common in these parts. Only after he died, when I was older, my father told me the truth. My great-grandfather had been a Wielder and he had been caught. At that time, there was no death penalty. A Wielder's power was believed to come from the hands…so they cut them off.'

Viktor looked very angry by then and started to pace the room again.

'My father explained everything to me, about the Ancients and how they were revered in the old days. He told me about Graolf and his curse, about the hunts.' His lips curled in disgust. 'Wizards hunting other wizards…is shameful. It turned out that I come from a long line of Wielders, Hermione, though my grandfather, the one who Grindelwald killed, was the last one. Anyway, my father thought it was the right thing to tell me. This is how I know about it, and why I know it must be kept very quiet.'

Hermione absent-mindedly wiped the tears from her eyes, stood up, and embraced her friend.

'I understand. I'm sorry I brought this up, I didn't mean to.'

'Oh, they aren't painful. The old man was happy and he managed well enough without his hands. He had a big and loving family to take care of him. It just makes me angry that the old stupid laws still exist and you could be punished for being gifted such a wonderful gift.'

Viktor returned her embrace and murmured in her hair, 'Please, promise that you will be careful.'

She squeezed him tightly and whispered, 'I promise!'

He released her and smiled.

'I suppose you will be fine, you are a smart girl. Enough old tales; now tell me what really happened with Snape. How did he know you were an Ancient, and how does he know about them anyway?'

So Hermione told him all about her strange day, leaving out no details. When she finished, Viktor smiled fondly at her.

'He said you were very strong, huh?'

She nodded. Viktor ruffled her hair affectionately, earning an indignant squeal.

'Hermione Granger, you really are something. When you do something, you just have to excel, don't you? No, leave my pillow alone, I thought you are supposed to be all grown up and sophisticated. Now go get some rest, I can see that you are knackered. We will talk about it later again, if you want to.'

Hermione had to agree, so she went to her own room and snuggled in bed for an afternoon nap. She couldn't wait to see Snape again for another lesson. She also started her classes next week. It seemed she was going to have her hands full. _Well, tell me something new_, was her last thought before she drifted off.

**A/N:** Many thanks to **Gryffindor_Slytherin** for beta reading and to everyone who left a review. This chapter's title belongs to **Bjork**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Unfinished Sympathy**

Hermione and Viktor had dinner at home because they wanted to speak about Wielding. Viktor kept asking questions about what it felt like and even asked her to show him. However, she didn't want to try alone, remembering the uncontrolled torrent she had unleashed before. She wasn't sure what would happen if she got caught as a conduit for raw life force, but she sure as hell didn't want to find out.

Just as they were finishing their pizza, the distinct sound of a telephone ringing made them both jump up. Hermione stared at the small table in the corner. Yes, it had a brand new wireless telephone on it. Viktor grinned.

'Oh, I forgot to tell you. I had it installed today while you were gone, I wanted to surprise you. Go get it, I believe it's for you.' The telephone rang again. Hermione squealed happily, kissed Viktor on the cheek and rushed to pick it up.

'Hello?' she said, out of breath. She promptly moved the speaker away, because a voice shrieked in her ear.

'HELLO? HERMIONE, IS THIS YOU? CAN YOU HEAR ME?'

'Yes, Ginny, please don't yell! You are going to pop my eardrum. Speak as if I'm next to you.'

There was a brief sound of struggle; apparently Harry won, because she heard his voice next.

'I keep telling them, but they don't believe me. How are you, Hermione? Settling in all right, blending with the locals?'

Hermione sniggered.

'You sound as if I am off to live with some tribe in the wilderness. Everything is okay; I'm starting classes next week. The city is nice, so are Viktor's friends.'

Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

'I'm glad you are feeling well. I was a bit worried, because you just went off like that and you don't know anyone there. I know you have Viktor, but I guess he has stuff to do.'

'Don't worry, I can take care of myself. I already regained most of my lost weight, Mrs Krum's meals are rival to Mrs Weasley's. By the way, you'd never guess who I saw yesterday.'

'Who, the lead singer of the Weird Sisters?'

'No, you dummy! Professor Snape.'

There was a heavy silence on the other side.

'Are you kidding me?'

'No, I saw him in a café next to the university. He apprenticed with Master Borisov and visits from time to time. You know he lives in Greece now and it's within Apparation distance.'

'Did you speak to him?'

'Yes, he asked me about my…problems. I never wrote back to him and he didn't know. I told him about my parents and everything.'

'Well, that's nice. Tell him hello from me if you see him again. Now Ginny here is tapping her foot, so this is goodbye from me.'

Hermione smiled fondly as Ginny regained the speaker and they spent half an hour in aimless babble. Ginny wanted to know everything about the city, and the boys, and the university, and the boys. In turn she told Hermione all the gossip about their school friends, who was seeing who, and the bliss of married life. Hermione realized that she really missed her friend's lightheartedness and easy humour. She didn't like keeping secrets from either Harry or Ginny, but she knew there was no way to tell them about the newest development in her life.

After sending her well-wishes to everyone at home, Hermione hung up and smiled contently. This was way better than Floo conversations and there wasn't any soot involved.

'Viktor, are we going to have lunch with your parents this Saturday?'

He raised his head from his book. 'Yes, but you don't have to go if you have something else in mind.'

'Oh, no. I think I will visit Professor Snape after that. Your mother's lunch should load me up with enough energy to tackle another try.' They had agreed to avoid mentioning the word Wielding even when alone, but Viktor knew what she was talking about. 'I will owl him tomorrow, I'm too tired to go out now. I think I'll turn in. Good night Viktor.'

After the lunch with the Krums, Hermione bid them farewell and Apparated to Snape's cottage. She popped in at the edge of the garden and approached by foot. He was sitting on the ground next to the fig tree, reading a book. It still startled her, seeing him like that in the broad daylight, without his heavy teaching robes. As far as most Hogwarts students were concerned, he was born in them. She noticed that his hair had grown considerably longer and a single lock hung before his eyes, almost to the middle of his chest. Hermione felt a sudden urge to tuck it behind his ear and her fingers twitched involuntarily. She suppressed the impulse and walked towards him, trying to ignore that black lock, standing out against his crisp white shirt.

Severus raised his head and snapped the book shut.

'Good afternoon, Miss Granger. Punctual as always, I see. Have you eaten?'

'Yes, I had lunch with Viktor's parents.'

'Have you spoken to Mr Krum about your…situation?'

'Yes, he told me about his great-grandfather. I suppose you knew about him?'

'I knew Vladislav personally. I met him once, a few years before he died. I was certain that Mr. Krum's father must have told him the truth about the old man, so I believed he would be someone to trust with this particular secret.' He beckoned to the ground in front of him. 'Shall we begin?'

Hermione sat down cross-legged and listened carefully to his instructions.

'You need to do what you did the last time, with more restraint. Allow only a little to pass. When you feel that small trickle passing through, focus it on something concrete. It is easiest to find a seed, there are many buried in the soil. When you do that, pull back quickly, in case the seed was from something large. It is not a pleasant sensation to be knocked out cold by a tree.' He crossed his arms and waited for her.

Hermione felt even more nervous under his scrutiny. She glanced at the ground in front of her and touched it tentatively. This time, instead of plunging in, she reached carefully. When she felt the telltale tickle, she stopped and pressed down firmly. The ethereal fluid struggled for a moment and then calmed down. Hermione relaxed her hold a little and felt a small amount escape. She grasped it firmly with both her mind and her hands and directed it to the first seed she sensed. She couldn't explain how she found it. Probably her awakened Wielding senses responded to the tiny spark of life hidden inside. The small tendril of life force slammed into the seed and Hermione pulled back quickly, breaking contact. She opened her eyes and watched as several green leaves sprang from the soil. They lengthened and grew, little blooms formed and opened. It was a purple hyacinth.

Hermione watched the flower with awe. She had actually done it! She grasped one of the small blooms and broke it off. Somehow she knew that the plant didn't need all of them and she wasn't hurting it. She turned towards Professor Snape. He actually looked pleased about her accomplishment, until he spotted the small flower in her hand. Then his eyes became wary and guarded. Still, she reached out to him and proffered the flower.

'Thank you for teaching me how to do this, Professor.'

Snape stared at her with wide eyes and she was surprised to see his hurt look. He reached slowly and took her gift with trembling fingers. Then he winced, as if he had touched red-hot iron, turned his back and quickly strode into the cottage, slamming the door behind himself. Hermione just stood there, mouth hanging open.

'What did I do?' she asked the world in general.

'You brought back painful memories, girl. It's not your fault, don't fret.'

Hermione turned around frightened, to see a short woman in a white robe. She looked like someone's fairy-godmother at first sight, but at a closer look she seemed to emanate power. Somehow, Hermione felt that the woman was not a threat.

'Who are you?' she asked.

The woman smiled benevolently. 'My name is Vesna. Severus might have mentioned me. No?' she added at Hermione's lack of recognition. 'Well, trust him to omit important things. Let's just say that I am a Wielder too, no need to hide from me. I have known Severus since he was younger than you, I taught him to Wield. I drop by occasionally, to see if his Potions experiments hadn't eaten him.'

Hermione couldn't suppress her giggle. Then she quickly became serious.

'What did you mean when you said I brought back painful memories? I only gave him a flower.'

'Every little gesture might have a different meaning to every single person. But this is his story to tell.'

At this point, a disheveled Professor Snape stormed out of the cottage.

'How nice of you to remember, Vesna. Sometimes you find it hard to distinguish between your own and other people's business.'

Nonplussed by his anger, the woman smiled and patted him on the shoulder. Hermione thought that in his current state, the action was equivalent to patting a hungry crocodile on the snout.

'Relax, Severus. I haven't told her anything, as you well heard. However, you should.'

He towered over her and bellowed, 'Is it not enough that you made me teach again? Do you know how similar they are? Do you know what it costs me? Do you?' He was trembling with rage and Hermione knew that if it was anyone else in Vesna's place, he would have hexed them already.

Vesna only looked up at him and smiled sadly.

'Yes, I know. A festering wound hurts when you drain out the poison. But isn't it the only way to heal?'

Severus shrank visibly. He sank down on his knees and took Vesna's hands in his.

'I know that, but it doesn't make it any easier. I am sorry that I shouted at you.'

'I don't mind, you needed to let it out. Please, speak to the girl. It is not her fault and she shouldn't wonder why you keep running off. There shouldn't be secrets like that between you two, after all you are family now. We shall speak again.' She placed her hand on his head in a silent blessing and was gone as suddenly as she had arrived.

Hermione couldn't take her eyes off Snape. He looked so…sad. He seemed lost in thought, still on his knees, staring at the crumpled flower in his hand. She didn't know what to do, whether to approach him or to Apparate quietly and give him time to calm down. Deciding in favour of the latter, she made a step backwards. She thought she didn't make any noise, but his eyes turned to her, as if he had forgotten about her presence.

'Please, stay. I will do my best to explain. Vesna is right; there are some things you should know if I am to teach you. I cannot promise to control my temper at all times but at least you will know the reasons for my behavior. I hope you won't hold it against me.' He slowly laid his upper body on the ground and stared at the sky.

'I will tell this only once, so listen and do not interrupt. I met her in my old neighbourhood, when I was about ten years old. She was my age, a small girl with a cloud of red hair. I saw her levitate and I knew she was a witch. She was my friend, my first and only friend. We went to Hogwarts together. As your friend Potter must have told you, my days there were not exactly happy.'

Hermione shrugged.

'He told us that his dad and Sirius were really mean to you. It bothered him a lot.'

'So, the little bugger can keep his mouth shut after all,' muttered Snape darkly. Hermione didn't have a clue what he was talking about and just kept quiet. He sniffed the hyacinth and put his hand under his head, looking very young and vulnerable.

'Even though most people thought I was good only for target practice, she always stood by me. She was popular, but she was never stuck up. And she always had time to brew potions with me, to let me know I was not as alone as I felt.'

Snape was looking at her now, his eyes boring into hers like pits of black fire.

'In second year, I discovered that she was a Wielder. I called Vesna and she suggested that it would be best to teach her myself. So I taught her. It was one more thing that connected us. Oh, we had our fights, but you know how childhood friendships are, Miss Granger. Very, very hard to break.'

Hermione nodded slowly, remembering all the fights with Ron and Harry.

'Did you love her?' she asked. That question seemed to anger him.

'Love? Of course I loved her, you silly girl. Don't you love Potter and Weasley? Wouldn't you give away your life in exchange for theirs? Do not mix silly romance here, it has no place. The point is that I taught Wielding to my only friend, the skill that made her and her son so special in the eyes of the Dark Lord; the reason for her death.'

Hermione stared with unbelieving eyes.

'Oh, yes. Lily Potter. When she grew her first flower she gave it to me. Do you understand now, Miss Granger, why I ran away from your gift? Sometimes you are so like her that it scares me out of my mind. On the other hand, maybe it is my chance at redemption?'

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Hermione's eyes wandered and she saw a patch of his bare stomach where his shirt had bunched up. Suddenly she had the same insane urge as earlier, to touch him, to see if his skin was soft and warm. She shivered and brushed the thought away, averting her eyes.

He stood up briskly and looked the other way, obviously uncomfortable about sharing his story.

'Sometimes I might be…difficult, Miss Granger, but I hope this will not dissuade you from our lessons. I will try not to overreact, if you try to bear with me when I do.'

Hermione managed a weak 'Yes, sir.'

'I believe that was enough practice for today. If I remember correctly, our initial topic of conversation in that café was my research. Now that you are more knowledgeable about the nature of Wielding, I will give you some of my notes to read. Take your time and we will discuss them when you are finished.' He disappeared into the cottage and returned with a stack of parchment. Hermione took it almost with reverence and sat herself on the lawn.

Severus was tending to his herbs, but he kept glancing at Hermione as she read. She stared at the parchment almost accusingly as she bit her lip in concentration. It was already swollen and almost worn through and he had the urge to reach out and soothe her abused mouth. He had a fine softening salve made from beeswax and calendula, which would do the trick, but the idea of spreading it on her lip with his own fingers made strange emotions stir within him, emotions he chose to ignore as well as he could. Nevertheless his eyes kept straying to her face. She was absolutely engrossed in reading. Only once she tore her eyes away to grab a piece of blank parchment and a quill from her satchel. When she leaned forward, her shirt opened a bit and he quickly looked away, but not before he had caught a glimpse of white skin and black fabric. He shook his head and fixed his attention on his work. _The last thing you need is thinking about her underwear._

Some hours later Hermione approached him, holding several sheets of parchment.

'Sir, I have read through most of your notes. I understand the direction of your work, but I feel I need to read up on some of the ingredients and other things. I made a list of what I would like to research. Would you look at it and tell me if it's okay to bring it home with me?'

Severus grabbed the parchments and studied them for a minute before handing them back to her.

'I see no problems, the list does not imply any particular potion.'

She stood by his side a moment longer before she asked softly.

'Professor, does Harry know about what you told me today?'

Severus sighed. He was certain that the questions would come sooner or later.

'Yes, he knows the basics. It was in the memories I gave him.'

Hermione remembered bits and pieces of what Harry had told her and the pieces fit together. His overall change of attitude towards Snape made more sense now.

'Does he know about Wielding?'

'He did. After the battle he agreed that it was dangerous knowledge and I Obliviated him, with his express permission. Now he only knows that there was a special connection between his mother and me.'

'But sir, why did he have to know in the first place? Couldn't you avoid showing it to him?'

Severus rubbed his temples and sighed in exasperation.

'Miss Granger, it was not easy for me to tell you any of this. I have a headache and I have more work to do. Please, be kind and stop pestering me with questions. Besides it is nearly dark, you should get going'

Hermione bowed her head and went to collect her things. She returned to him and bit her lip again with a wince.

'Goodbye, Professor. Thank you for today and…I am sorry about your loss.'

Severus's eyes softened and he replied quietly, 'It was a loss for others too. Lily was a friend to many people, a dedicated wife and mother. Still, I thank you. I trust you will owl me about your next visit?'

She nodded.

'Goodbye, Miss Granger. You did very well today. Lily did not succeed until her fifth attempt. There were many inexplicable flower patches near the lake, and an accidental copse of trees.'

Hermione lifted her eyes and looked at him with a smile. Suddenly she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He felt her life force brush his like a caress.

'Thank you, sir.' she whispered and Disapparated. Severus stared at the empty air, his hand still tingling from her touch. An image of white flesh clad in black fabric flashed across his mind, but he brushed it away angrily and stomped towards the cottage, abandoning his gardening tools.

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews, everyone!  
The title of this chapter belongs to **Massive Attack**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: History Repeating**

Hermione Apparated home only to grab her coat and went for a walk in the park. She sat on a bench near the water lily pond and stared at the pretty flowers. Snape was friends with Harry's mum. Wow. She wondered if they had remained friends after Lily started dating James Potter. From what Harry said, she was certain that there was no love lost between those two. And what did he mean about Wielding making her special in Voldemort's eyes? There were so many things that she didn't dare to ask. If he was ever going to talk, he would do it on his own accord. Remembering the hurt in his eyes disturbed her and she didn't like the thought of bringing it back. She firmly decided to push down her natural curiosity and keep her questions to herself…for the time being.

Sunday was the last day before Hermione's classes began and she resolutely spent it relaxing with Viktor and two of his friends. They went to see a movie and had lunch in a small restaurant in the outskirts of the mountain. Later she and Viktor shared a bottle of wine at their flat and went to bed early.

On the next morning, Hermione found herself in a large laboratory with six other witches and wizards. When Master Borisov strode into the room, he halted in front of his apprentices and gave them a measuring look and a very disconcerting smile.

'Welcome to university classes. Every one of you has been accepted on the basis of your academic achievements and excellent recommendations. Now, let's see what you can do. Everyone, take a station.'

After everyone had a place, Borisov started walking along the bench, giving out parchments with instructions.

'You can find all the necessary ingredients in the storeroom.' He waved his wand and a green door appeared on the wall. 'Gather everything you need and start working!' He sat on a small desk at the end of the workbench, silently observing his students.

Hermione quickly scanned the parchment—her assignment was a pain-killing potion. She went to the storeroom to get a cauldron and her ingredients. Checking the list in her hand, she frowned. The valerian roots were in much larger quantity than she remembered. She looked at Master Borisov, ready to question him, when she saw the amused glimmer in his eyes and realization dawned. _The old bastard is testing us!_ Hiding her own smile, she grabbed the right amount of roots and headed back to her station.

An hour later, Master Borisov started walking along the bench, peeking in every cauldron. Apparently, not everyone had realized the deliberate mistakes in the assignments—several people were staring in horror as their potions hissed and bubbled, and one girl had cast a containment shield to stop the noxious fumes as her healing salve coagulated into a charred mess. Only Hermione and one other girl were still working.

Master Borisov banished the ruined potions and proceeded to give the culprits hell. Hermione listened on while tending to her own potion and she realized how Professor Snape was able to reduce his students to tears with a few choice words. He simply had a very good teacher.

Gone was the kind old man that had offered her refreshments. Scathing comments rained upon the poor students and Hermione winced in sympathy. Her own potion was ready and she removed the cauldron from the fire.

'You are not in school anymore; you are supposed to have some ability of independent thought and judgment. There are trained baboons which can follow instructions blindly! If your parchments said "pour undiluted armadillo bile down your throat and do jumping-jacks until it dissolves your internal organs", would you have done it? Think before you put something in your cauldron. Mister Schmidt, what was wrong with your recipe?'

The blonde skinny boy gulped and pushed up his glasses, reminding Hermione of Harry.

'T-t-the horned toad liver should be added after the potion simmers over low heat for thirty minutes, not before.'

'And can you tell me why?'

'The heat neutralizes the neurotoxin of the rainbow snake's poison. Otherwise it reacts with the bile acids form the toad liver and the resulting compound is highly corrosive when heated.' The boy looked forlornly to his workbench, a huge hole where the caustic potion had eaten through it.

'Correct, Mister Schmidt. I trust you will be more careful in the future.' He repaired the hole and turned back to the others.

'This should be an important lesson for you all! As apprentices, you cannot make simple mistakes like this, and follow instructions without doubt. You should know enough about the way ingredients interact. I was deliberately misleading in today's assignment, but what if you run into a botched recipe in a book? It happens every so often. You have to learn to follow through the whole process of brewing and to be able to understand why every step is necessary. Do not ever take anything for granted, for there lays the way to premature and painful death! Am I understood?'

The chastened students muttered a quiet 'Yes.' Then he turned to Hermione and the other girl who had completed her potion. 'You two, don't get you heads in the clouds. It's commendable that you noticed the mistakes in your instructions, but you still have a lot to learn. For next time, I want a one-foot essay from everyone on the effects of the botched recipes and why they occurred. The two of you, being so smart, should be able to figure out what would have happened had you followed through.'

He grabbed a stack of parchments from his desk and gave them to the blonde boy to hand out.

'This is your reading list for the first semester. The books are available in the library. For tomorrow, you have to read the first two chapters of _"Alchemy: The Roots of Potion Brewing"_. We will have a discussion in class and then we will brew some more. That's all for today, you may go.'

He swirled around and strode out of the lab in a scarily familiar way. Hermione groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had saddled herself with the man who taught Severus Snape how to be mean. Way to go, Granger!

'Hey, at least you got your potion right!' a cheerful voice said in her ear. She turned around to see the blonde boy proffering his hand. 'I'm Thomas.'

'Hermione.' She introduced herself. The other five students approached them and soon she knew everyone's names. The girl with the poisonous fumes was Bella from Spain, and the other three boys were Nikola and Jordan from Bulgaria, and Goran from Serbia. The only other girl to finish her potion was Iva, also from Bulgaria. Hermione disliked her immediately because something about Iva reminded her of first-year Draco Malfoy. She smirked, imagining how Master Borisov dealt with people who thought themselves better than everyone else. Iva confirmed her suspicions when she collected her things and walked out, glancing at everyone as if she found them somewhat lacking.

'Wow, she seems stuck up.' Thomas commented. 'What is she, Queen of the world or something?'

'I think the Master will take the wind out of her sails if she continues to act like that.' Bella had a vindictive smirk with looked odd on her sweet rounded face.

Hermione privately agreed, but she had dealt with enough peer animosity in Hogwarts and she didn't want to go through all that again.

'Yes, she seems a little too sure of herself, but it's not nice talking about her behind her back. Maybe she's not so bad.'

Everyone looked unconvinced, but dropped the topic and lined out of the lab.

True to form, Hermione headed directly to the library to take the necessary books. The librarian had them ready and reduced in minutes. As she was leaving, she bumped into Viktor at the door. He was brandishing a list of books that rivaled hers. Smiling at her, he asked, 'How was your first day?'

She groaned. 'Let's just say that I have every proof that Professor Snape was his apprentice. Apparently the course included _Sarcasm 101, Nastiness for Experts and Melodramatic Behavior in the Classroom: How to Intimidate Your Students._'

Victor chuckled and patted her on the shoulder.

'Did he do the botched recipe trick?'

Hermione gaped at him, irate.

'You _knew_ and you didn't tell me?'

'Now where would have been the fun in that? Besides I was sure you'd figure it out by yourself.'

'Of course I did!' she huffed. 'Okay, I get your point. How was your day?'

'Great! We have been working on human transfiguration all morning. If we progress quickly, we will start Animagus training in a month.'

Hermione sighed wistfully. She really wanted to learn that particular skill, but she had the feeling she wouldn't have any time left.

'I have to go now; I have reading and an essay for tomorrow. See you at home!'

The next few days passed in a whirl of reading, brewing and writing. Master Borisov held a lecture in the beginning of each day, and it lasted about three hours. Hermione's fingers cramped from writing, but she didn't want to miss a word. He was truly a Master of his field. He spoke of brewing techniques she had only heard of, of little-known effects of common ingredients, of every little detail in the brewing process or the environment could alter a potion. After a short break for lunch, they would go back to the lab and they would brew until five or six in the afternoon. He had them working in pairs, working alone, one person working on two potions at a time. Hermione was dead tired, but she never thought to complain. Master Borisov was harsh when they made mistakes, but he never denied praise for a job well done. Professor Snape seems to have missed that particular point, she thought with some wry amusement, but she knew it was not exactly true. After all, he had not been in the position to praise a Muggleborn Gryffindor. And he had told her she had done well last time. Better than Lily…

When the weekend finally arrived, Hermione slept until noon. When she woke up she found a note from Viktor, informing her that he was at his parents and she was welcome for lunch if she wanted to. Then she realized that she had been too busy to owl Professor Snape and it was already Saturday. Was he expecting her? She scrambled out of bed and to the living room, where she was greeted with a screech by Viktor's falcon, Tervel. Thank God! She returned to her room and wrote a short missive.

_'Professor Snape,_

_I will not be able to visit you today, I have to catch up on my reading and write some essays. The week has been hectic and busy, and I apologise for not owling you earlier. Is next Saturday convenient for you to continue our lessons?_

_Hermione Granger'_

She stroked the falcon as she tied the letter to his leg. Apparently, he knew where he was going, for he took off right away.

Hermione showered and dressed and Apparated to the Krums just in time for lunch. Viktor teased her about oversleeping, but she was too hungry to respond properly. Mrs Krum frowned and muttered something in Bulgarian as she refilled her plate. Mr Krum chuckled and translated.

'She says that George is working you too hard if you don't have time to eat during the week, and she will have his hide next time she sees him.'

Hermione blushed. She really hadn't eaten much that week. Just then Tervel flew through the window with a screech and dropped a letter in her lap. Stealing a piece of meat from her plate, he was out in the garden before Mrs Krum managed to scold him.

_'No need to apologize, Miss Granger. I imagine that George is still the slave-driver he was when I was your age. I shall be occupied the next weekend, but I would like to give you some reading material. Just owl me the time you finish classes and meet me at the café where you found me before. By the way, did George pull the botched recipe trick on you? I will be gravely disappointed if he managed to get you._

_S. S.'_

Hermione glared at the letter. 'Does everyone know about this except me?'

'About what, my dear?' asked Mr Krum, confused.

'Master Borisov's botched recipe trick.'

'Oh, that.' He smiled mischievously. 'I'd say everyone who knows him. Don't fret; he does it every year and I'm sure you didn't fall for it.'

'So everyone keeps telling me,' she muttered as she dug back into her lunch.

The next week was much similar to the first, except that Viktor's mum started sending food for them every day. Hermione had to admit it was convenient, for neither she nor Viktor had time to cook. She was already certain that she had to introduce Ana Krum and Molly Weasley; they were definitely birds of a feather.

Hermione sent a short note to Professor Snape to confirm their meeting at six o'clock on Tuesday in the café. She wondered what exactly he was occupied with, but again she decided to keep the personal questions to a minimum. The weekend was spent buried in textbooks and essays, yet somehow Tuesday could not come fast enough.

**A/N:**  
The title of this chapter belongs to **Propellerheads**. I know it is not very exciting but I needed to give a glimpse of Hermione's life. I promise we'll see more of Severus in the next chapters.  
I thank everyone for their lovely reviews. I read and cherish every single one of them, even if I don't reply to everyone.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Caring is Creepy**

On Tuesday Hermione finished her potion and checked the time. It was almost six and some of her classmates were not ready yet. She gathered her courage and approached Master Borisov. He looked up from his book.

'Yes, Miss Granger?'

'I am finished with the assignment, sir. May I be excused from the after-class discussion for today, I have an important appointment at six and I can't afford to be late.'

He walked over to her cauldron and inspected the potion.

'Your work is excellent, Miss Granger. Indulge my curiosity, what is your important appointment, if it is not something too personal?'

Hermione didn't want to mention Professor Snape's name and said quietly, 'I have to meet our mutual acquaintance, sir. It's about his research.' Master Borisov's eyes widened and he smiled.

'Oh, I see. Well, he does not like to be kept waiting. Go ahead and send my regards.'

Hermione gathered her things and left in a hurry.

When she arrived in the café, out of breath and dishevelled, Snape was already giving his order to the waitress. She expected him to comment on her being five minutes late, but he just arched an eyebrow.

'Well, did he?'

For a moment, she didn't grasp his meaning, but then she caught on.

'Yes, he did. No, I didn't fall for it. Honestly, how could I put anything in a cauldron before thinking about it twice? I was your student after all,' she quipped. Snape seemed mildly pleased.

'Good old George, always keeping you on your toes.' He shook his head, clearly amused, and pushed a small parcel across the table.

'Enlarge these when you get home. They are spelled to open only for you, but it would not be wise to carry them around too much.'

'I will take care of the books, don't worry sir.' She clutched the precious tomes to her chest.

The waitress arrived with a cappuccino for him and an espresso for her. Hermione reached for her cup when a shrill voice behind her back startled her and she almost spilled it. The voice's owner turned out to be Bella, who sat on the available chair next to Hermione and started blabbering.

'Hermione! I didn't know you come here too! Why did you leave early? You missed the Master's assessment of Iva's potion, I swear she was almost hysterical when he finished. He definitely brought her down a notch or two. '

Hermione desperately tried to interrupt her, but it was too late.

'Excuse me, miss.'

Severus' voice could freeze over Hell, and then some. Bella stopped mid-sentence and turned to him. He was glaring at her full-force and she recoiled.

'Miss Granger and I were having a private conversation, which you rudely interrupted. Besides it is unacceptable to sit at an occupied table without asking for permission first. I am sure that Miss Granger is dying to learn all the gossip, but it will have to wait until later.'

Bella just gaped at him, apparently petrified with horror. Hermione sympathized. Professor Snape took some getting used to. She patted Bella's hand and told her softly, 'I'll see you in class tomorrow and you will tell me about it.' This seemed to wake the girl from her stupor. She stood up quickly and after a last horrified glance at Hermione, she practically ran away.

Hermione buried her head in her hands and almost whined, 'Did you have to be so mean to her?'

Severus sipped his cappuccino as if nothing had happened and replied dryly, 'You have to admit that she was very disrespectful.'

Hermione just sighed and grabbed her cup.

'Drink your coffee and we will go talk in the park. This café is too close to the university, I can't risk you traumatizing more of my classmates.' She expected a sniping comment, but he complied and their finished their drinks in silence. Then he threw several coins on the table and stood up.

'Lead the way, Miss Granger.'

* * *

The park was lovely, covered in the gold-and-red cloak of autumn. The sun was setting and the trees looked like they were on fire. Lost in contemplation, Hermione let her legs carry her, until she heard Snape's footsteps pause beside her. He was scowling.

'Is there a reason you brought me to this particular place?' he asked coldly.

Hermione glanced around; circular benches, chestnut trees…_oh, no, the water lily pond!_ She flushed and turned her pleading eyes towards him.

'I am so sorry. I had no ulterior motives, I assure you. You told me you don't want to talk about Lily anymore, and I respect that. This just happens to be my favourite spot and I always end up here when I'm not going anyplace in particular. I apologize, it was thoughtless of me. We can go elsewhere.'

His eyes lost some of the anger and he slowly walked towards the pond. He reached out a finger and stroked one white petal.

'It is fine, the flowers are quite beautiful. I should apologize for overreacting.'

Hermione gave him a moment alone and sat quietly on one of the benches. Several minutes later he joined her, stretching his long legs in front of him. He seemed lost in thought and she used the opportunity to observe him from under her eyelashes. No, he was not pretty; she scoffed at the thought of such an adjective associated with him. He was not even handsome. Despite that, he seemed to emanate a sort of raw masculinity that unnerved her. It was in his face, in his posture, even in the way he moved.

'Why did you write to me of all people about your nightmares?' he asked, still looking straight forward.

She startled at the sudden question but tried to answer truthfully.

'Somehow I believed you would understand. The only other person who would was Harry, but he was too close. I needed someone…detached.'

'It didn't seem to do you a lot of good.'

'Oh, it did. Everything you told me to do was right. It was not your fault that my parents were dead by the time I went to find them. You gave me what I asked for-advice. I didn't expect you to come charging to my rescue.'

'Maybe I should have, when I didn't receive a reply. After all, you are the one who stopped me from bleeding to death in the Shrieking Shack. Arranging a Portkey to England would have been a matter of minutes with George's help.'

'Professor, you have done more than enough on my behalf!' She hated the idea that he still felt indebted to her.

'I gave you permission to use my first name when we spoke last in Hogwarts. Yet you never did.' This time he looked at her. He definitely was in a strange mood, asking all these questions. Usually she was the one doing the asking.

'I did tell you to use mine, but you still called me "Miss Granger" when you said goodbye.'

His brow furrowed in recollection.

'It seems you are right. I'd rather you didn't call me "Professor", it makes me feel as if I am back in Hogwarts.'

'Only if you manage to use my first name, Severus.'

She enjoyed the feeling of his name slipping from her mouth, the sibilant sounds tickling her tongue. It was almost…sensual. A bare expanse of pale stomach flashed in her mind and she pressed her lips to stifle a sigh. _Gods, what's wrong with me? I thought I had forgotten about that…_

He tensed up next to her only to relax in a moment.

'I suppose that's only fair, Hermione.'

There was an uncomfortable pause and Hermione cleared her throat.

'I have researched the list of ingredients you mentioned in your notes and made a list of their uses and possible interactions when used in a potion.' He threw her an exasperated look and she waved her hand. 'I know, I did it for my own reference. It wouldn't do to ask you for every single one of them, and I am sure you don't have it on paper…after so many years of brewing I supposed you knew all that from memory.' Severus visibly bit back his reply and nodded.

'From the information I gathered, it seems that you are attempting a potion which renders the consumer immune to any Wielding influence for a period of time, creating a shield around their life force. This should be able to negate the effects of the Killing Curse, because the core of it is the Wielding powers of Graolf, am I correct?'

He nodded gravely.

'Yes. It is as if he is summoned from the dead to kill every time Avada Kedavra is cast.'

Hermione stared at him incredulous.

'But I thought he imbued the curse only with his powers? You mean that there is some aspect of him left in our plane of existence and connected to the spell?'

'For a wizard, his magical powers are deeply connected to his life and soul. That is why you were in mortal peril when you used up all your energy to heal me. I am sure that some part of him is connected to the killing curse. The feeling when you cast it...I have always felt malice that was not my own.' She could swear she saw the tiniest of shivers run down his spine.

'Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find an accurate description of the ritual he underwent. This knowledge was erased and forgotten long ago.'

* * *

Severus watched the girl with a hint of amusement. He could imagine the gears shifting in her brain as she processed the information.

'Never mind that, Hermione, the point is that if a potion is able to negate Wielding, it will also negate the Killing Curse. I have made some progress, but at this point I have to admit I am stuck. A fresh opinion is always valuable. Read the books I gave you, they should explain some of the more…arcane properties of those ingredients you researched. Then we will discuss the potion again.'

She bit her lip again. His fingers twitched. _Damn that lip!_

'Prof…um, Severus, may I visit you again this weekend to practice? I'm still afraid to do this on my own.'

He was suddenly uncomfortable with the thought of being alone with her in his secluded cottage. _Stop that! She needs to practice and she's right, it's dangerous for her to do it alone. At least she has more common sense than Lily._ He winced.

'I'm sorry Professor, I didn't mean to impose. Just…owl me when you have time.'

He realized that the girl had mistaken his expression for refusal.

'No, this Saturday will be fine. And I believe we agreed on first names, Hermione?'

'Yes, um...it's hard to call you that when you have your "Professor Snape" scowl, you know?'

There was a small smile playing on her lips. It seemed contagious, because he felt his own mouth curve upwards.

'Is this more conductive? I have a very wide range of facial expressions that are not a part of the "Professor Snape" persona.'

Her eyes widened a fraction and she blushed. Curious, he couldn't resist a small peek into her mind before she looked away. He glimpsed only one thought, screaming loud and right on the surface. It made his heart miss a beat and his blood rush in two opposite directions. _"Wow, he actually looks handsome when he smiles. Oh gods, what does his face look when he is having sex? Aaargh, stop it, Granger! Only embarrassment and humiliation lie that way."_

He realized that his own face was flushed and his long-neglected nether regions were stirring to life. Thank Merlin that the girl was still pretending to stare at the lily pond, or he would be the one embarrassed and humiliated. At least she hadn't sensed his intrusion.

_So, she isn't averse to the idea, hm?_ He silenced the wicked little voice tormenting him.

_It was a passing thought in her mind, you twit! Despite being a know-it-all, she is still a hormonal teenager. It doesn't mean that she wants to see for herself!_

_But you still want to show her, don't you?_

He gritted his teeth and pushed the thought away. He stood up and cleared his throat.

'Shall I expect you in the afternoon again? I understand you have lunch with the Krums on Saturdays.'

She glanced at him before averting her eyes again, but he noticed that her face was still pink.

'Um, yes. I will arrive right after lunch.'

'I shall see you then. Good evening, Hermione.' She turned to him and mumbled, 'Good evening, Severus,' and he Disapparated. However, not before he saw her literally squirm as his name rolled off her tongue.

* * *

After arriving at the cottage, Severus toed off his shoes and grabbed a book from the shelf. He had read _"Obscure Potion Ingredients from the Aegean Region"_ at least three times, but it would do to keep his mind focused and not wandering in directions it was not supposed to go. He sat under his fig tree and opened the book at the chapter about insects. However, by the third page he was acutely aware of the excitement in his trousers which refused to subside. Putting away the book, he glared at his crotch.

'You were content and quiet for the last several years, what is wrong with you now? Lusting after a student, how pathetic.'

The infernal voice in his mind answered promptly. _She is definitely not a student anymore, nor is she a little girl. She thinks you are handsome when you smile. And you look like a nutter, talking to your cock out loud, you know?_ Severus groaned and buried his face in his hands. It has been so long. Why now? Why her? His traitorous mind flooded with pictures of her biting her lip and leaning forward to grab some parchment, that tantalizing flash of lace, the way her jeans hugged her perfectly biteable bottom. He cursed loudly.

'I NEVER stared at her bottom!' The voice snorted in amusement. _Oh yes, sure. That's why you remember it so clearly._

His pants were uncomfortably tight already, and trying to adjust them caused a jolt of pleasure to rush down him. He pulled his hand away as if burned and stood up, grabbing his book.

'I am not masturbating over Hermione Granger, of all people!' he whispered with a vindictive snarl, and stormed off to brew a Deflating Draught.

* * *

Hermione stared at the spot where he had stood. What had possessed her to think of _that_? Scratch that, what had possessed her to think of _that_ while looking an accomplished Legilimens right in the eye? _Thank God I looked away in time!_It was getting dark and she headed towards her flat, trying to think about school and homework, yet she couldn't stop envisioning the way his face came to life when he smiled.

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone for their lovely reviews! This chapter's title belongs to **The Shins**.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Protect me From What I Want**

Severus woke up early and went outside to make coffee. Right away, he popped back in to get his cloak. The weather in Greece was warm even in the end of October, but he was high enough in the mountains to feel the morning chill. The sun had not risen yet, but it was light enough to find his way to the fireplace. Wrapped tightly in his soft black cloak, he stared at the rising foam in the pot, thinking about Hermione. He had given up calling her "Miss Granger" even in his mind. She was due to arrive in the afternoon and his emotions warred between anticipation and anxiety. The unwanted feelings she had awoken in him next to the lily pond in the park made him distinctly uncomfortable. On the other hand…he wanted to see her. He gritted his teeth in annoyance and poured the boiling coffee in a thick mug. He hoped that the whole debacle was caused by his isolation from all humankind, including females. He tried to attribute his unhealthy interest to his reawakened reproductive instincts. _After all, my body was smart enough to know that finding a woman during my spy career was meaningless and far too dangerous. Now that it has become clear that I'm alive and staying alive, my stupid hormones are tying to latch to the first available female around. I've had a few days to clear my mind, maybe when she shows up today everything will be back to normal._

He stood up and started pacing, trying to ignore the infernal inner voice, who smirked at him, _Keep thinking that, old man._

The problem was that Hermione had many other qualities beyond being female. Her intelligence drew the scholar in him like moth to a flame. He rejoiced every time she grasped a complex concept just from a few words, without lengthy explanations. Her fierce loyalty to her friends evoked both respect and envy in him. Having been betrayed and disappointed more times than he cared to count made him covet that loyalty for himself. In a way, she had been loyal to him…he knew from Potter that she had been respectful to him throughout their schooldays. She was the one who came to his aid in the Shrieking Shack and almost gave her life away to save his. However, that was the loyalty she felt for a teacher and fellow Order member. He wanted to mean something more to her. He wasn't sure what that meant exactly. His traitorous body had its own opinion, but maybe, hormones set aside, he could be her friend? Yes, friend was good...and safe.

Pushing all thoughts of Hermione Granger aside, he sat under the fig tree and threaded his fingers through the dry grass, lightly touching the soil. He felt the thrum of life through his fingers and reached out. Soon the air shimmered and Vesna appeared in her white dress, smiling softly.

'How nice of you to invite me for coffee, Severus. As always, you make the best brew.' She poured herself a mug and eased down next to him. He stared at the ground, unsure what to say. He was not certain why exactly he had called out to Vesna. He knew he could always turn to her in times of trouble, but he had no idea how she could help him in this particular predicament.

'How is your research coming along?' she asked, sniffing her coffee and making sounds of delight.

'Still the same. I'm doing something wrong, I did the Arithmancy on the potion and it comes out all garbled and twisted, so I can't even tell where the problem is.' Severus sighed. 'I gave Hermione the chronicles. Maybe she will see something that I don't.'

'She is an exceptional young woman, isn't she?' Vesna eyed him askance.

'Indeed.' His eyes shifted involuntarily, but Vesna had always been able to read him easily.

'I see. Do you want to talk about it?'

'I am not sure there is anything to talk about.' He saluted her with his mug. 'I simply need company to take my mind off..._her._' There. He said it. Vesna nodded and relaxed against the tree trunk. She squeezed his hand lightly.

'There is nothing wrong with letting yourself feel, Severus, you know. Not everyone you let in your heart will break it.'

'Everyone up to now has, Vesna; except you, of course.' He squeezed back. The old woman chuckled and they drank their coffee in silence, watching the sunrise.

Hermione spent the remainder of the week trying to concentrate on her work. However, all sorts of disturbing thoughts popped into her head at most inopportune times. When on Friday she almost blew up the lab, Master Borisov simply pointed to the door.

'Out, Miss Granger. Clearly there is something bothering you. Take the day off and get some rest. I want you back tomorrow in your full capacity.'

Hermione hung her head and collected her things. Despite her best efforts, her lip trembled. She had _never_ messed up a potion so bad. She walked out without looking at her teacher, but he followed and stopped her just outside the door.

'Miss Granger, this is not a punishment. You need some time off and you are not fit to brew in this condition. It happens to everyone.' He gave her a meaningful look. 'If _he_ did something to upset you, just tell me and I will give him hell. You are my student now, only I have the right to upset you.'

Hermione smiled weakly and wiped her eyes. 'No, _he_ has been kind to me. I just…I have a lot on my mind. I promise I will be better by tomorrow.'

The old man let her go and smiled. 'Go ahead, now. And tell the boy he has been neglectful of his old master lately, I am looking forward to his next visit.'

Hermione nodded and left, trying to reconcile the word 'boy' with Severus. Somehow it didn't fit.

The weather had just turned and the warm autumn scenery of the city was now grey and depressing. The constant drizzle and the cold wind that seemed to ambush her around every corner did not do anything for her mood. She couldn't even take a walk in the park. Not that she wanted to; the very idea of the lily pond was enough to make her both hot and cold inside. In a fit of mutiny against her 'good girl' image, she entered a small shop on the way to the flat and bought a bottle of red wine. Viktor had shown her some of the better local wines, but they always drank a glass or two with dinner, nothing more. She was not the drinking sort anyway. However, standing in the shop and looking through the window at the grey city, the only thing she wanted to do was go home and curl up on her bed with a bottle of wine and a good book or a sappy romantic movie. Soon after the telephone, Viktor had bought a television set and a DVD player. So she picked a bottle of her favourite wine, not too strong but tart enough to pull back her gums, and walked to the flat. Of course, when she was halfway there, the drizzle turned into a flood. She couldn't risk an Impervious charm in front of all the Muggles running for cover. Shit. She ran, too.

She walked into the flat and went straight to the bathroom for a hot shower. Half an hour later, wrapped into a soft terrycloth robe, she sat in front of the TV and looked through the movie collection. Finally settling for 'Love, Actually', and after a brief struggle with the corkscrew, she poured herself a glass of wine and relaxed on the sofa. Silently, she saluted into the empty air. _Here's to me, Hermione Granger, swot extraordinaire-getting drunk before noon._ Half a bottle later and an hour into the movie, she could not avoid the reasons for attempted drunkenness any longer. The next day she was going to Greece. She was going to _him_! The idea of being alone with him made her quiver with anticipation. And that, in turn, made her scared shitless. She tried to remember all the times he had been mean and cruel in school. She tried to remember him in billowing black robes, his condescending sneer. However, all she could hear was his mellow baritone instructing her about Wielding and his fierce love for his childhood friend. All she could see was a lock of inky black hair against a white shirt, making the same striking contrast as the black hair trail that ran along his belly against his marble-white skin…she groaned and banged her head on the back of the sofa. _This is so confusing. Why do I even think of him like that? He used to be my Professor, for crying out loud!_

Attraction to the opposite sex was not a stranger to Hermione. She had felt the first flutters when she was Viktor's date for the Yule Ball. Yet somehow, it had been more the thrill of exploring the unknown. Not that there was much exploring beyond a few kisses and an awkward grope. She was way too young then, and after all they had turned out much better as friends. She had felt small tugs in her gut during the summers in the Burrow, when most of the Weasley sons wandered around shirtless at some point. But it had been just that-a small tug, a spark of interest which subsided as soon as the Weasley in question disappeared from her sight. Then there was the kiss with Ron during the final battle. It was definitely passionate, but not the right kind of passion.

None of these encounters with her sexual nature had ever unfazed her so. It was a part of her that made itself known from time to time, but it never interfered in her life until this point. She couldn't comprehend it. After all, she had spent hours sunbathing in the backyard of the Burrow with Bill Weasley, all tanned skin, roguish smile and long auburn hair. It was basically the dream of every witch above Hogwarts age. However, the memory of his mostly naked body, clad in cut-offs and glistening in the sun made her feel nothing but affection and regret for his maimed face. The memory of the two-inch wide strip of Severus' stomach she had glimpsed made her squirm in her seat. _Gods, what is WRONG with me?!_

Frustrated and angry at herself, she turned off the TV and went to her room. The parcel Severus had given was stashed away in the lowest desk drawer. She had yet to enlarge it. _I think about him all the time, anyway. I asked to visit him tomorrow; I might as well go prepared._ She took the parcel out and bracing herself, she tapped it with her wand. There were two books inside, each wrapped in soft cotton cloth for protection. She couldn't help but smile; there was a man who cherished books as much as her. She picked up the first tome. It was evidently very old; it had no title, only an elaborate engraving of a large tree. The tree's roots went as far down as the crown went up. She opened the book and looked at the first two pages. Her eyes widened when she realized that the book contained the chronicles of Wielding. Apparently it was written by more than one person; the handwriting, the ink and the style changed, and it alternated between history and personal journal entries. She sat on her desk and soon was engrossed in reading. She never heard Viktor come home, she didn't see him take a peek in her room and shake his head with silent amusement. Only when it was too dark to read she lifted her head and rubbed her gritty eyes. She went to the kitchenette to grab a bite and returned to the book, switching on the light.

Much later, she woke up with a crick in her neck. She had fallen asleep on her desk, thankfully not on the book. She didn't think Severus would appreciate her drooling on his precious tomes. Staggering to her bed, she fell asleep promptly, all her earlier worries pushed back by the swirling mass of information she was trying to absorb.

**A/N:** I love reviews sooo much! (well, who doesn't?) Thanks to eveyone who left a word. This chapter's title belongs to **Placebo** I'm sorry that it is so short, but I felt it needed to stand by itself.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: I Have a Need**

Hermione woke up from the faint sound of creaking. She opened her eyes and spotted Viktor's head retreating from the door.

'I'm awake,' she mumbled, rubbing her face. 'What is it?'

He peeked back in her room.

'I'm sorry; I didn't want to wake you. You just stayed up very late last night and I wanted to check if you were sleeping on the desk.'

She grinned and sat up in the bed, brushing her hair away from her eyes.

'I was, but I moved at some point. What time is it?'

'Nearly eleven o'clock. I'm going to my parents now, are you coming for lunch?'

Just then the reality of the day being Saturday descended upon Hermione, chasing away the last remnants of sleep. She shook her head.

'I'll skip this week. Please, excuse me to your parents. I'm going to see Severus this afternoon and I need to read some more.'

Viktor stared at her.

'Severus?'

Hermione blushed and snapped at him.

'Well, I saved his life and then he saved mine. That's more than enough ground for using our first names.'

He raised his hands in defence. 'Okay, I didn't mean anything. Sheesh, you are a grouch in the morning. See you later.' He closed the door and hurried away.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and punched the pillow. _Nice going, Granger. You scared the poor boy away._ She got up, showered and headed for the kitchenette in search of breakfast and coffee. She really needed to get herself together and concentrate on the task at hand. She had discovered some intriguing things in the book and wanted very badly to ask Severus about them.

Severus was finishing the last few stirs of the Pepper-Up Potion he was brewing, when he heard the crack of Apparition outside the cottage.

'I'm inside!' he said loudly.

He took a deep breath when he heard the door open and turned around. He had spent the several hours after Vesna left trying to persuade himself that he was an adult, and ex-spy and generally controlled man, who could subdue all unwanted emotions with his will. All the confidence he had managed to assemble crumpled at the sight of her.

She was wearing a _dress_! It was not in any way revealing or attractive-a plain long dress with high neckline and wide skirt. Her hair was gathered in a messy bun and she was hugging a stack of parchments to her chest. The problem was that she looked like a woman, not like a girl. Her smile was shy and what one can call girlish, but it just added to the overall effect of Severus feeling weakness in the kneecaps.

Her smile turned slowly into concern.

'Severus, are you all right?' He realized that he was staring and looked away.

'Yes, I'm fine. I'm stocking Pepper-Up for the winter, I just need to bottle it and I will be right with you.'

She glanced at the cauldron and asked, 'Would you give me a ladle? I can help.' Silently, he proffered the required utensil and for fifteen minutes they worked quietly. After they were finished, Severus broke the silence.

'Let's go outside. You can practice, unless you want to discuss the books first?'

She took her parchments from the workbench and her eyes gleamed.

'Oh, I definitely have some things to ask you.'

He groaned in mock despair.

'The Fates are cruel. Please, hold back until I've had my afternoon coffee.'

Later, mugs in hand, they sat on the ground. Hermione shuffled through her parchments.

'I understood what you said about arcane properties. I found some herbs in the books that affect the Wielder's power. It said that people gave those to their children to suppress their powers until they were old enough to control them and to realize the need to hide. I suppose they play part in your potion?' Severus nodded in agreement.

'Life reaches out to life, as I said. The Wielder has the power to establish an actual connection. I believe that the herbs create a shield around the person, so no life gets out and there is no way to connect.'

'If it's so simple, it should work the other way around. A person who drank such a potion would have a shield around their life force, so no Wielder can come through.'

'Yes, it works in general. However, not for the Killing Curse.'

Hermione's shoulders slumped.

'I knew it couldn't be so easy. There is something more, I can feel it. And I wanted to ask something else. Here, I brought the book.'

She opened the ancient tome and in the middle, there was a page missing. The centre was burnt, leaving only the fringes. There were several words legible._'He has crossed the forbidden threshold'…'He shall be damned for eternity, but his guilt and shame is ours to bear.'_

'Is that what I think it is?' she asked.

'Yes, this is the page where Graolf's deed was recorded. It was destroyed later. Vesna told me that the elders decided it was better this way, the knowledge was too dangerous.'

Hermione fidgeted with her parchments again. Clearly she had some ideas of her own to share, but she seemed reluctant. Severus was annoyed, until he remembered the way he had treated her in school. Sure, their circumstances were different, but he knew that habits were hard to overcome. He sighed and beckoned with his hand.

'Hermione, I see you have something to say. Please, don't hold back. I'm not going to bite you!'

She took a deep breath and his eyes were drawn to the juncture between her neck and her shoulder. Suddenly, biting seemed a good idea.

'I have been thinking…what if your approach to the problem is flawed?'

He frowned.

'What do you mean?'

'I saw your Arithmancy on the potion. It's all wrong. I mean, you did the calculations correctly, but the results are total nonsense. An equation doesn't look like that when you need only to change quantities or the brewing process. It looks as if something in your hypothesis is wrong. We are missing something very big.'

His eyes narrowed. The impertinent chit…was absolutely right.

'I know. There is a major piece of information missing. I tried to work around that, but it seems impossible.'

Hermione was gawking. Professor Snape admitted he was wrong. No, Severus admitted he was wrong. Professor Snape never did that, but Severus apparently did. He reached out for her papers and she handed them to him. She knew that her calculations were correct. However, especially after the whole Wielding issue, she knew that there could always be something she wasn't taking in account.

He scowled in concentration, deepening the lines on his forehead. Oh, how she longed to reach out and smooth those lines. They did not belong on the face of a wizard who was not even forty. He sighed and gave it back.

'I believe you are correct. We are working with an unknown variable here. There must be something that will help us make sense of this, but I cannot fathom what it is.' He growled in frustration. 'We will have time for this later. Right now, I believe you wanted to practice?'

Hermione nodded, her throat suddenly dry. She had succeeded once before, but maybe it was a fluke. The thought of failing in front of him terrified her. He apparently noticed her concern and his features softened.

'Do not worry, just do it. This time, you can try to touch without channelling first. It will help your control. Besides, it is late autumn already. The pool is calmer this time of the year.'

Hermione looked at him quizzically.

'Nature goes to sleep for the winter, Hermione. This is a safe time to practice. In the winter it is too sluggish to let you realize the real scale of what you are dealing with. And only the insane would teach an inexperienced Wielder in the spring. Even for me it's overwhelming. Summer and autumn are the best.'

Hermione thought about it and realized the truth of the statement. It was plausible that the energy of the life pool would follow the cycles of nature. Winter was rest time. Spring was when everything came back to life. She remembered the violent connection she had established at her first try and shuddered at the thought of doing this in the spring. She wasn't sure even Severus would have been able to pull her out.

She reached out towards the warm soil and her hand hovered in hesitation. Then suddenly Severus' warm hand was wrapped around hers. She jerked her head around and found him sitting right behind her. His eyes were looking straight into hers and he said softly. 'Do it. I'm here if something goes wrong.' His words and his touch made her feel safer than she had ever felt before. She nodded and plunged her hand into the soil together with his.

The sensation was different, duller. She was pushing down, but she didn't have to use so much force. She also felt his presence. Then he whispered in her ear, 'Now…feel.'

She obeyed and gasped. When she wasn't so focused on control, she realized that she could perceive everything that lived under the grass. There are few places that contain more separate organisms than soil. Even in the autumn, she could feel insects, worms and various seeds like tiny sparks. They were somehow more focused within the blurred movement of the pool. She could also feel Severus' presence.

'Good.' he said softly. 'Now I want you to try and channel to yourself. Be careful, not too much.'

Hermione wanted to ask what would happen, but she was too afraid to lose her concentration. So she obeyed and decreased the pressure, allowing the current to absorb into her own life force, instead of redirecting it. The feeling was incredible, her whole being thrummed with delight. Then she felt a tug on her hand and his voice said, 'Enough!' With effort and some reluctance she pulled back and opened her eyes. He was still staring at her, holding her hand. She looked down at their entwined fingers and gasped. Looking closer, she saw that the fresh scab where she had grazed herself with the cutting knife was only a pale mark on her thumb, as if it was months old.

'This is one of the common effects.' He released her hand and pulled back. 'You will also find that your senses are heightened; you will not get hungry until tomorrow and you will need only a few hours of sleep tonight. It basically enhanced every function in you body for a short time.'

Hermione lifted her astonished eyes to him and realized what he was talking about. Every line on his face was suddenly clearer. She noticed a small scar on his forehead which had been invisible until then. Then the mountain breeze ruffled his hair and she sucked in her breath in surprise. She could _smell_ him! The scent of Pepper-Up Potion, the coffee on his breath, lime and vetiver probably from his cologne invaded her nostrils as if her nose was burrowed in his neck. He smelled so delicious and she wanted more! She caught herself leaning towards him and pulled back in embarrassment. A throb low in her abdomen urged her to lean back, to inhale more of that delicious scent. _All body systems enhanced indeed,_ she thought as she scrambled to her feet.

'Severus, I need to get back. I am going to a movie with Viktor and I will be late. I will think about the problem with the potion.'

He stood up with a slightly confused expression and Hermione knew that she was making stupid excuses but she needed to get away before she hugged him and sniffed to her heart's content…or worse. She collected her parchments and the book, still avoiding his eyes.

'I will owl you about our next lesson. Goodbye.' She whirled around and Apparated, leaving a very confused Severus behind.

Severus sat back on the grass, contemplating the last half hour. Everything had been going very well. Why did she leave early? He didn't believe her cooked up appointment with Krum. The lie was clear in her eyes when she said it, he didn't need Legilimency to see it. He replayed the events, trying to see what might have scared her. Her odd fidgeting had started after she had absorbed the life force. Was it too much? It was overwhelming in the beginning, the energy, the heightened senses…He frowned. There was _something._ Her nostrils had flared…and she had leaned towards him. Severus looked down in mortification and anger. Did she smell his arousal? Did she even know what an aroused man smelled like? However, she didn't seem repulsed, only…flustered. He took a moment to remember her face. Her cheeks were flushed; she seemed short of breath and her eyes were glassy. Maybe she found his scent appealing? He groaned and fell back on the ground, staring at the fluffy clouds. _Today was not supposed to go like that. It was supposed to be normal._ Apparently normal was a too much to expect from fate. Vesna's words drifted back to him: _There is nothing wrong with letting yourself feel, Severus_… Maybe, just maybe she was right.

Hermione Apparated to the flat and startled Viktor from a heated snog on the couch. She squealed and turned around.

'Sorry, I'm so sorry! I just wanted to get home as soon as possible. I'm going to my room now and I'll stay there all evening, promise!'

Before her embarrassed friend could reply, she sprinted across the living room and slammed the door shut behind her. All she had glimpsed from the girl was flowing black hair and a pretty impressive rack. _Good for Viktor. At least he's getting some._ She threw herself on the bed and burrowed under the pillows, trying to shut out the persistent throb in her stomach. It didn't help that Severus' scent still lingered in her nose and combined with the smell of her own sheets. Hermione growled in frustration and punched the headboard.

A tiny knock interrupted her self-pity session. She got up and opened the door.

'Sorry about that.' Viktor stood there, looking absolutely mortified. She glanced over his shoulder and the girl was nowhere to be seen.

'I'm the one who should apologise. I shouldn't have Apparated straight to the living room. I'm sorry that I scared off your date.'

Viktor shook his head.

'She was about to leave anyway. What you saw was a goodbye kiss that got out of hand.'

Then he took a better look at her and stepped inside, his dark eyes radiating concern.

'Hermione, what's wrong? You look worried.'

She looked away, but he was next to her in a second.

'I am having none of this. No offence, but I have seen what happened the last time you tried to work out your problems by yourself. I swear that what you say will go no further. Now spill!'

Hermione's eyes welled up and she lunged at Viktor, enveloping him in a fierce hug. It felt so nice to have someone who cared. Harry, Ron and Ginny were too far away, and they would have too many prejudices. Viktor was a good listener and she knew he wouldn't tell a soul. She inhaled his scent: ink and parchment, pine and musk, a note of gardenia, probably from Mystery Girl's perfume. It was comforting and it definitely didn't cause the reaction Severus' scent did. She sighed and pulled back.

'I'll tell you everything, but first you go get some wine. I need a drink. And I want to hear about that girl.'

**A/N:** I know, I know, I'm drawing it out *cringes*. Thanks to everyone who left a word, it was greatly appreciated. The title of this chapter belongs to **Black Light Burns**

Come over and visit my livejournal, it's listed on my profile.  
There's nothing too interesting there, I'm just feeling kind of lonely. And you might find a drabble or two.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Let Go**

Viktor and Hermione stayed up late, drinking wine and talking. Bit by bit, Hermione managed to tell her story, this strange attraction to Severus which both fascinated and scared her. After she was finished, Viktor took a large slug from the bottle.

'I don't see the exact nature of your problem. Is it him or is it the feeling itself?'

Hermione sighed.

'It's a little of both. I haven't felt this way about anyone else, and it is strange that it's exactly him. He was my professor for six years. He was always mean to me and I suppose I irritated him to no end.'

Viktor chuckled.

'Well, people change all the time. You've grown up, so has he. You don't have Voldemort's shadow hanging over you. Which bothers you more—the fact that you are attracted to him or the possibility that he doesn't feel that way about you?'

Hermione had chewed her lip raw, so she absently nibbled on her hair.

'I'm not sure I want him to feel anything about me. If it's one-sided, maybe it will go away by itself. Merlin, I'm so messed up. I hate this.'

Viktor removed her hair from her mouth and earned a glare.

'Do you think he might reciprocate?'

'How the hell am I supposed to know? I'm clueless when it comes to boys. You had to invite me to the Yule Ball before I realized you were interested in me.'

'He is hardly a boy, but I have to agree about you being clueless. Look, don't stress too much over it, because you can't really do anything about it. You are attracted to the man and that is that. Maybe it will go away, maybe he likes you too and you can live happily ever after or at least shag like rabid nifflers for a while. End of story.'

Hermione swatted him on the shoulder.

'You make it sound very simple. And you lifted way too much vocabulary from Ron and Harry.'

'It is simple. People just make it complicated inside their heads.' Viktor yawned and blinked at the clock.

'It's two in the morning, Hermione. We can talk again, but you should get some sleep first.'

Hermione pouted and grabbed the bottle.

'I can't sleep because of that stupid Wielding exercise he made me do. Channel life-force into yourself, he said. Enhances all body systems, he said. Now I can't even sleep to get him out of my mind!'

Viktor sighed and stood up on wobbly legs.

'You might be running on turbo drive but I'm dead tired, so I'm going to bed. Try to get some sleep, please!'

Hermione wrapped herself in the thick blanket and stared morosely at the wine. Even after a full bottle, she wasn't feeling even a bit woozy. Another blasted side effect of the extra life force coursing through her system. She put the bottle away and dutifully tried to sleep, but with no success. Finally she admitted defeat and threw back the covers. The least she could do was finish some of her homework.

Severus woke up and instantly regretted it. The sun was already up and the meagre light filtering through the curtains stabbed his eyes. He groped blindly around the floor by his bed and finally grabbed the blessed bottle. Thanking himself for the forethought, he downed the hangover potion, instantly feeling better. He sat up in bed and looked around. Yes, the bottle of brandy was empty. His liver wouldn't thank him for last night's fiasco. He rubbed his face and stood up. His brain still felt fuzzy. Staying up all night drinking himself to unconsciousness had not been a very good idea, but it had been the quickest ad easiest way to get Hermione out of his head.

A quick shower and two cups of coffee later, he felt alert enough to pull out a book and read up on the ulcer cure he was trying to improve. By noon, he had a list of possible ingredient substitutions. His mind kept straying to Hermione, but he pushed back the thought and focused on the potion. Midway through the brewing process however, he realized with horror that instead of mint leaves he was about to add lavender. His eyelids were drooping and he wasn't fit to brew in such sleep-deprived and distracted condition. With a resigned sigh, he put a stasis charm on the cauldron, reduced the heat and cleared the table. He turned towards the door to ward it, when his eyes riveted on a strange cloak hanging on the nail. Hermione had left in a hurry the previous day; it was probably hers. Slowly he walked over to the cloak and picked it up. Then hesitantly he brought it to his nose and inhaled. _Merlin, must she smell so divine?_ Against his better judgment, he carried the cloak back to bed and hugged it to his chest while he gave up and contemplated the mystery that was Hermione Granger. He had never regarded her as more than a bright, if annoying student. After she saved his life and they said their farewells at Hogwarts, he hadn't expected to run across her for at least several years. Then he found that flower in the Shrieking Shack and some part of him knew that their paths would cross sooner than he thought. However their current situation was beyond anything he could have imagined.

He sniffed the cloak again and unconsciously rubbed his cheek against the soft wool, thinking about his life. His early childhood had taught him about love—love made people weak and caused them pain. His mother's love for his father had cost her her magic, her happiness and eventually, her life. He still remembered her dressing his cuts and bruises, after his father expressed his rage about Severus' first bursts of involuntary magic. Her own lip was bleeding and her left eye was black-and-blue, yet she kept telling him, 'He loves us, Severus, he just doesn't understand. Daddy loves us, try not to do magic in front of him and everything will be okay.' So he tried and tried, but it was never good enough. A drop of porridge on the table, a shirt not ironed properly—the smallest things caused Tobias Snape to descend with fists upon his wife and son. The only thing that made his life better was when he met Lily. She had been vibrant, full of life and she had liked him, despite his obvious flaws. He would stay awake at night and dream that she was _his_ sister. That awful Petunia did not deserve her anyway. However, young as he was, he was actually happy that he didn't have any real siblings; that would only mean more victims to his father. Later, in Hogwarts, he would see happy couples snogging and holding hands, but when he closed his eyes, all he saw was his father's raised fist and his mother's ruined face, so unlike the happy looking coupe on their wedding photo. People changed. He couldn't risk it. Romance was for fools. Anyway, every person he had dared to love in any way, his mother, his Lily and Dumbledore, had died a violent death, a death that was fully or partially his fault. He thought that he had sealed his heart. Now Hermione Granger, the former bane of his existence, was slowly but steadily worming her way into his life. His every instinct screamed to hide, to retreat, to strike back, to spare them both the pain that would surely follow. Love equals pain. Yet her cloak was so soft and it smelled so good and he was so tired...Lost in his warring emotions, Severus fell into fretful sleep, still clutching Hermione's cloak for dear life.

At some point, Hermione returned to bed and managed to doze off for a few hours. When she woke up, it was past noon. Dragging herself out of bed, she found a very grumpy and hung-over Viktor cooking breakfast and nursing a headache. She sat contritely at the table and fiddled with the edge of her dressing robe.

'Sorry about last night.'

Viktor managed a pained smile.

'It's fine, that's what friends are for. Are you still high on life force?'

Hermione giggled.

'I think it's starting to wear off. I even managed to sleep.'

'Then the scent of coffee won't kill you. Make yourself useful and make some.'

Hermione complied and soon they were sipping hot coffee and Viktor was stuffing himself with fried eggs and yogurt. Hermione still didn't feel hungry.

'I was too busy wallowing in self-pity and you never got to tell me about your date last night,' she said.

Viktor choked on a piece of egg and went bright red.

'Well…she is a childhood friend actually, but we haven't seen each other in fifteen years. She has come here to study Herbology. We went out to see a movie and catch up and well, you could see for yourself.'

Hermione chuckled and patted his shoulder.

'No need to be embarrassed. I'm happy for you. Are you going to see her again?'

'Yes, but I will limit the snogging to my room.'

'Do remember a silencing charm, Viktor dear. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to catch up on my reading.'

Viktor rolled his eyes.

It was late afternoon when Hermione finished her essay and closed _"Magical Plants of the Balkans"_ with a heavy thud. Her eyes strayed to the locked and charmed drawer where she kept the other books. She couldn't let the discomfort get in the way of her work. She had promised to help and she knew that there was a lot more to learn that the simple exercises Severus had shown her. Nevertheless she shuddered as she said his name in her mind. Maybe it would have been wiser to keep addressing each other formally…Hermione pursed her lips and un-warded the drawer, extracting the books and her notes. She reviewed the Arithmantic equations and started listing the different variables that could be missing. Not all of them seemed terribly important, but sometimes even the smallest thing could have tremendous influence. She needed to check every possibility and Hermione Granger famous for her thoroughness.

Two hours later the light was fading and Hermione looked up from her parchment. She realized that her fingers were cramped and her stomach was demanding food. She went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. A lone apple and a minuscule piece of cheese met her sight. With a deep sigh she grabbed her bag and headed for the front door. She reached for her cloak, but it was missing from its usual place. Hermione frowned and returned to her room. No cloak. Of course, she could wear her Muggle coat, but the cloak was much warmer. When had she worn it last? Yesterday…she closed her eyes and collapsed on the bed as she realized that her cloak was still hanging on a nail in Severus' cottage. _Okay…deep breaths…Muggle coat it is. The store is not so far away. I will use a warming charm. There._ Then she bit her lip. It was six o'clock, hardly a late hour for a visit. She could pop over, get her cloak and apologize for her sudden departure on the previous day. Her senses were back to normal. She wouldn't do anything stupid. Apologize, get her cloak, arrange a time for their next meeting. Yes. Summoning her Gryffindor courage, she concentrated and Disapparated.

She appeared under the fig tree. It was an easy anchor with its distinct shape. It was getting dark, so she hurried over to the cottage and knocked. The door remained closed. She knocked again.

'Severus?'

Still no answer. Maybe he was away. She thumped on the door in frustration and it opened. Confused, she raised her wand and drew it along the frame. It wasn't warded or even locked. Suddenly, fear gripped her throat. New life or not, it was very unlikely that Severus had left his door unwarded. There were still people out there who would want to hurt him. She gripped her wand tightly and peeked through the crack. It was too dark inside and she could only see vague shapes.

_'Lumos!'_ the tip of her wand glowed and she pointed it towards the table. There was a potion under a shimmering stasis field and neatly arranged ingredients. No sign of struggle, which calmed her down somewhat. She looked back at the door, but her cloak was missing from the nail. Was it possible that he had decided to bring it to her? No, he didn't know where she lived. She pointed her wand to the back of the room and exhaled with relief.

He was sleeping, sprawled on his stomach with arms tucked under the pillow. His hair obscured his face, but she could make out a nose and slightly parted lips. Her eyes fixed on something brown and woolly sticking out from under his body. _Bloody mother of Merlin, is that my cloak?_ She gasped in surprise and her wand clattered on the floor. The light went out.

There was a flurry of movement from the bed and his voice snapped.

'Who is there? Reveal yourself!'

Hermione cringed and went into full student mode, 'It's me, Professor Snape. I forgot my cloak here and came to get it. Your door was unwarded and I was worried that something happened to you. I'm sorry, Professor.'

Severus relaxed and was about to light the lamps and give Hermione a stern talking to. The life expectancy of those who crept up on Severus Snape while he slept was very, very low. Then he froze. She had come for her cloak, the cloak that was currently snuggled to him like a teddy bear. He closed his eyes. Had she seen? He had thought this level of mortification was unreachable without the aid of the Marauders, but apparently he was wrong. Maybe she hadn't seen it. So he coughed and said, 'Please, turn around for a moment, I need to get dressed.'

'Yes, Professor,' she said in a small voice.

He illuminated the room and blinked against the lights. Quickly he grabbed the infernal cloak and arranged it on a chair. He struggled into his trousers and shrugged on a shirt. When the last buttons were fastened, he looked at Hermione. Her head was bowed and her back tense. No doubt she expected him to be very angry at her; perhaps he should have been. However, the honest concern in her voice when she said she was worried made it impossible. He knew her well enough already; she wouldn't be sneaking into his cottage to do mischief.

'You may turn around, Hermione.' Her shoulders instantly relaxed at his mode of address. She turned around and looked at him, her face flaming red and her eyes shining.

'I'm not mad at you, girl! Stop looking at me like I will hex you and stop with the "Professor" and "sir" nonsense. I appreciate your concern, but you could get hurt creeping on me like that.'

'I didn't mean to! The door was unlocked, the cottage was dark, and you didn't answer. I thought someone had attacked you!

_Merlin, she is genuinely upset._ He walked up to her and after a moment's hesitation put a hand on her shoulder.

'I think we have ascertained that is not the case. I believe you were looking for your cloak?'

She first glanced at the bed and then Severus knew she had seen him; never mind that the stupid thing was probably still warm from the contact with his body. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable question. She was quiet, though, and he risked a glance. Hermione had picked up the cloak from the chair and her fingers stroked the wrinkled fabric. A small smile was playing on her lips, not mocking or condescending, merely pleased. She looked at him and blushed again.

'I'm sorry for causing such a fuss for nothing, Severus. If I hadn't needed to go out for food, I wouldn't have noticed it missing. I'll be going now.'

She wrapped herself in the heavy wool and only because he was watching closely, he saw her bend her head and sniff the fabric. Severus made a quick decision; he cleared his throat and she looked up.

'If I understand correctly, you have nothing to eat at home; would you like to stay for dinner?'

She stared at him for a few seconds and he was starting to think that he had severely misjudged the situation. Then she smiled that dazzling smile of hers.

'That would be lovely. Do you mind if I pop back to my place to get my notes? I made a list of variables that we might be missing and I wanted you to look them over.'

'Go ahead.' He nodded.

She closed the door behind her and a few minutes later he heard the crack of Apparition. Then he slowly walked into the small bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. His reflection glared at him from the mirror. I hope you know what you are doing, old fool. He shook his head. It's only dinner. Can't leave the poor girl to starve. He went to the pantry and started rummaging. He could throw something together before she returned.

Hermione kept her eyes closed when she arrived home. She waited until she heard Viktor's amused voice.

'I'm alone, you can look now.' She opened her eyes and grinned sheepishly.

'I just wanted to make sure.'

'You didn't leave a note, I was worried.'

'You and your notes! I'm sorry; I only meant to be out for half an hour. Anyway, I'm leaving again.'

'Where are you going, hmm? You look flustered and there is a very silly grin on your face. What's going on?' Viktor was practically jumping up and down with curiosity.

'Well, I had forgotten my cloak with Severus and I went to get it. He invited me to stay for dinner and I want to show him my notes.'

Viktor's eyebrows wriggled like a pair of fuzzy caterpillars.

'Well, well. You don't seem so conflicted about your feelings anymore.'

Hermione waved him off.

'Oh, it's just dinner.'

'Sure, pull the other one.'

She scowled. Definitely too much vocabulary from the boys, and perceptive on top of that.

'Look, I have a reason to think that he is…interested. I need to see where this is going, okay?'

'Okay, I understand. Go on, have fun and tell me all about it later.'

Hermione smiled with gratitude and dashed into her room to grab her notes. A glance at the mirror stopped her short. _I'm not dressed for dinner even with the local bum!_ A quick rummage through her wardrobe replaced her worn jeans and shabby sweater with the soft woollen dress she had worn the previous day. Hurrying to the living room she almost pumped into Viktor, who was holding a bottle.

'It's polite to bring something when you visit. Take this, it's your favourite.' Mercifully, he did not comment on her changed clothing. Hermione grabbed the bottle of wine, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and Disapparated.

**A/N:** Ths chapter's title belongs to **Frou Frou**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Policy of Truth**

Severus was turning the sausages on the grill when Hermione knocked. He waved his wand to open the door and called, 'Enter! I'm almost ready.'

She walked in and left her satchel on a chair.

'Where do you keep your dishes?' she asked.

'You are my guest; you don't need to set the table. Sit down.'

'You are being nice and cooking dinner for me. I can help.'

He turned around and brandished a fork at her mutinous expression.

'Sit down, Hermione. And I am not…nice,' he sneered. She only smiled at him and extracted a bottle from her bag.

'All right. But I brought some wine.'

Severus winced and her smile faded.

'We don't have to drink it. I just thought I'd bring something.'

'Thank you, Hermione. The problem is that I drank a bit too much last night. Go ahead and open the bottle, I'm sure a glass of wine with dinner will not do any damage.'

Her lips quirked but she mercifully kept her silence and pointed her wand at the cork. He didn't want to explain the reasons for his alcohol indulgence.

He turned off the heat and served the sausages together with some fresh cheese and tomatoes. It was a simple meal, but it was all he could manage on short notice. Then he produced two wineglasses and sat himself across from Hermione. He poured the wine and held up his glass.

'To new beginnings.'

She raised her own glass and he noticed her hand was trembling, but her voice was firm when she repeated, 'To new beginnings.'

Hermione tucked into her food with relish that made his eyebrows rise.

'Have you eaten at all since yesterday?'

She almost choked on a piece of sausage and flushed bright red.

'Um, no. You were right, I didn't feel hungry until an hour ago, but now I'm positively famished. I'm sorry; I'm probably channelling Ron's table manners.'

At that, he couldn't help but laugh.

'I assure you, I have observed students eating in the Great Hall for fifteen years. Ronald Weasley is truly one of a kind and you could never rise to his level.'

They finished their meal in silence and Severus cleared the table, despite Hermione's protests. He poured her another glass of wine, glared at her for good measure and dumped the dishes in the sink. He could clean them with magic, but he liked the caress of warm water on his hands and the feeling of soap suds between his fingers. Besides, it gave him time to compose himself before he faced Hermione again. _Hermione with the bright eyes, Hermione with the translucent skin that seemed to glow in the firelight, Hermione, whose lips were stained by the red wine and looked more inviting than ever._ A tendril of hair fell into his face and his hand were soapy, so he tossed it back impatiently. He felt her eyes bore into his back. She was watching him. He rinsed the last plate, wiped his hands with a towel and made to roll down his sleeves. There, barely visible on the pale flesh of his left forearm, was the shadow of the Dark Mark. His hands stilled and he turned sharply towards Hermione. She met his eyes defiantly; there was no pity or revulsion there and that made him feel better. He didn't know if he could handle it coming from her.

'You don't need to cover it for my sake,' she said softly. He pondered telling her that it wasn't for her sake, but decided against it. Maybe it was time he got used to looking at it. Short of flaying the skin off his arm there was no way to remove the residual scar. He sat on his chair and topped his glass, Hermione's eyes following his every movement. He found it unnerving, but not unpleasant. People usually avoided looking at him. He glanced at her and the sight made him smile. She was pulling on the collar of her dress, the other hand twirling the wineglass and he was willing to bet that her foot was twitching beneath the table. Her jaws were clenched and he could visualize the question trembling on her lips and the force she was using to restrain herself. It was actually quite adorable and the thought made him wince. He hadn't known that the word 'adorable' was in his vocabulary without sarcasm attached in some way. He sighed and extracted the wine glass from her fingers before it lost its precarious balance.

'Hermione, please stop fidgeting and ask the damn question already!'

She flushed and shook her head.

'I promised that I wouldn't pester you with questions. I stand by my word. I won't lie to you; every time we meet there are a million things I want to ask. However, a promise is a promise.'

'I noticed that you have learned to temper your curiosity. However, I invited you to ask me about whatever is bothering you. I can't promise that I will answer, but I will try my best.'

Hermione took a deep breath and decided to take her chances.

'Why did you join the Death Eaters?'

Severus' expression froze and she wanted to take the words back, but then he sighed and his shoulders slumped.

'A personal question indeed, but I believe you deserve an explanation. You must understand that Tom Riddle during his first rise was a very different person, if you can call him a person at all. He was not the serpentine monster you remember. He did not engage in open warfare, at least not in the beginning. His methods were much more subtle.' Severus grimaced at the empty wine bottle and summoned another from the pantry. He filled his own glass and motioned towards Hermione's. She nodded.

'He collected people in a way much similar to Horace Slughorn. He wanted the wealthy purebloods with funds to support him, so he preached pureblood supremacy. He wanted the ambitious ones and he offered them power. He wanted the smart ones and he offered knowledge. He wanted those inclined to the Dark Arts and he gave them the opportunity to use them. His only true ambition was to rule over Wizarding Britain and to have everyone under his thumb. However, we did not know that. All we saw was a handsome and charismatic man who had great influence and could offer you your heart's desire on a platter. You need books? Suddenly you have access to the best libraries. You need ingredients? You get them and you don't question where they came from. I did not agree with the pureblood nonsense, but he did tell me that he was deceiving the wealthy aristocrats to get to their money. Being young and naïve, I sniggered behind their backs. I suppose that he told them that he used a lowly half-blood such as me only for my potions expertise. He played us all against each other like fighting dogs, while he held each and every leash. The most pathetic part was that nobody realized there was a leash. Dumbledore had always been wary of him and at one point began to oppose him openly; that made Tom show his true self. The attacks began; on Muggles, on Muggle-borns and on everyone who opposed him.'

'I held a deep distrust for Muggles. My mother was a witch and my father was a Muggle. I don't want to go into detail, but he was not a very good man. I had always craved power; not power to lord over the others, but power to protect myself. I wanted knowledge; the Dark Arts fascinated me with their moral ambiguity. I was a young, cock-sure git and I thought I could join the Death-Eaters, take what was offered to me, and then walk out. Very soon I realized my mistake but it was too late. Lily tried to warn me, as well as Vesna. I was blinded by Tom Riddle's praise and paid dearly for my hubris.'

He stopped talking and stared into her eyes, as if awaiting her judgment. Hermione smiled sadly.

'A lonely child with no friends; thirst for knowledge; constant need to prove to yourself and to the world that you are worthy; craving the praise of your peers and your superiors…Severus, do you realize exactly how well I can relate to that?'

His eyes widened and his jaw worked up and down, apparently lost for words. Then he smiled ruefully.

'When you put it this way, I suppose I do. Yet you never made the mistakes I made.'

'Severus, listen to me very carefully. While you were describing your early days at the side of Voldemort, I became more and more scared. No, listen to me! If someone had offered those things to me, I cannot say with certainty if I would have refused. I had advantages that you never had. I knew Voldemort's true colours. I was in the most heavily targeted group. I was Harry Potter's best friend.'

'Don't make me out as an innocent victim, Hermione. I knew he was targeting Muggle-borns and my best friend, my _sister_ was a Muggle-born. Yes, he used to tell me that he was only throwing dirt in the purebloods' eyes, but somewhere deep inside, I _knew_. When the first attacks began, I was terrified, but not terribly surprised. And then the Prophecy… I didn't believe the old fraud for a moment, but he decided to stay on the safe side. As soon as he mentioned the Potters it all made sense. I didn't want it to be true, but I very well knew the power that the Dark Lord knows not.'

'Dumbledore always used to say it was love.'

'Oh, it was. The selfless love of Lily Potter towards her young son let her channel all her life into Harry. The sacrifice of a mother in order to save her child does form a sort of blood protection, which is an entirely different type of magic. But the way she did it was of great importance. She drained every last bit of her life force, which is usually impossible. Do you remember what I told you about the connection between life, magic and soul?'

'Yes. Do you mean she channelled a part of her soul in Harry?!'

'The tiniest bit of Lily must have clung to him. Not like a Horcrux, something much more benevolent. I believe it was the sole reason Harry survived and still became a decent human being, despite Petunia's tender loving care,' he spat.

Hermione's brain was buzzing, trying to process the information. She knew that it wasn't easy for him to talk about Lily, but another question was begging to be asked and she couldn't hold it back.

'Did you really hate Harry?'

He laughed bitterly.

'He reminded me too much of his father. Maybe if Lily had married someone else, she would have survived. It was much easier to blame Potter. Besides, I had vowed to protect the little brat and he made my task damn near impossible. But no, I never hated him.'

Severus thought with amusement that many people would never believe that those exact words had ever left his mouth voluntarily. Hermione looked mildly incredulous herself.

'Thank you for telling me all of this. You didn't have to.'

'As I told you in a letter a few months ago, talking helps put things into perspective. I was never one to follow my own advice but I must admit I find it…liberating.' Hermione's bright eyes darkened a bit as she probably recalled the situation that had caused their correspondence. He had asked only the most perfunctory questions about her recovery and suddenly he needed to know whether she was truly all right. So he inquired, 'You said the nightmares are not troubling you anymore?'

'I haven't had a single one since I left England. Viktor was right that the change would do me good. I still miss everyone who passed away, but I don't feel so guilty anymore.' Her look grew pensive and she sipped on her wine.

'My parents…I was so angry at first. I had gone through all that trouble to hide them, and they had to go and die in a stupid natural disaster. It was so unfair. Then I guess I accepted it as fate. Maybe they were meant to die. Drowning is not a pretty death, but I'd like to believe it was better than what the Death Eaters would have done to them.'

'You can count on that,' he said darkly.

'It hurts that I never got to say goodbye. At least I hope they were happy in Australia.' She was biting her lip again and Severus could see the two spots where the wine had stained deeper because her skin was almost raw. He winced as he saw a small droplet of blood ooze under her pearly teeth. Without thinking, he reached across the table and freed her lip. Her eyes focused and she looked at him startled. He wiped the blood with his thumb and showed it to her.

'You should stop abusing your mouth like that,' he said softly, slightly embarrassed.

She licked the wounded flesh and he suppressed a groan. He wanted to be the one to soothe her lip with his tongue. Quickly standing up, he fetched a small jar from his potions cabinet.

'This salve will help it heal faster.' Severus removed the lid and scooped a minute amount on his index finger. His heart in his throat, he asked, 'May I?'

Hermione nodded. He knew that a simple healing charm would have done the trick. She also knew it, yet she was willing to accept his touch. He slowly spread the salve on her stained lips, feeling the dry skin soften and warm up under his fingers. Hermione had closed her eyes and he could feel her breath coming in shallow gasps against his hand. Reluctantly, he removed his fingers after the salve was absorbed. Her tongue snaked out and she winced as it touched the small wound.

'It still hurts a little. You could kiss it and make it better.' Hermione's eyes snapped open in horror and he could see that she hadn't intended to voice that thought.

The jar of salve slipped from his numb fingers and smashed on the floor.

* * *

  
**A/N:** Huge thanks to everyone for the reviews. I love you! *hugs* This chapter's title belongs to **Depeche Mode**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Temptation Waits**

Hermione stood there petrified and Severus knew that any moment she would shake off the shock of her own words and probably try to take them back. He could see the color rising on her cheeks and she looked so miserable and embarrassed that he wanted to grab her and smother her with kisses, to tell her that it was okay. However, they had both drunk too much and he didn't want to start something that she could possibly regret later, in the cold light of day. So he stepped over the broken jar, leaned across the table and as her eyes widened even further in surprise, he planted a small, chaste kiss on her lower lip. A strangled whimper escaped her throat, but he lingered only for a few seconds. Pulling back felt like the hardest thing he had ever done, especially when he saw the hurt on her face. Her arms were half-raised, as if she had meant to hold him, but she quickly withdrew them and ducked her head. When she met his eyes again, she opened her mouth to speak, but he gently placed his fingers on her lips, stopping her short.

'Hermione, it is quite late and I am afraid we both drunk more than we should have. You need to rest for your classes tomorrow. Perhaps I could visit during the week?' He willed her to understand and apparently she did, because a tentative smile crept on her lips and her posture relaxed.

'You are right; I am feeling a bit tipsy. Um…is Wednesday all right with you? It's Halloween and I don't think they celebrate it around here. It would be nice to spend the holiday with someone who appreciates it.'

His eyes seemed to darken for a moment, but before she could determine for certain, he was smiling at her. 'I would like that very much,' he said softly. 'Owl me with details.'

Hermione took her satchel from the chair and made a dismayed sound.

'I never showed you my notes.'

'You can leave them here or show them to me next time, whichever you choose.' _It is not only about the notes, you bloody know-it-all!_

'Okay then…I'll be going. Goodnight, Severus.' She gave him a quick hug and pulled back with sparkling eyes. 'Thank you for a lovely evening.'

'Goodnight,' he barely managed to say before she had slipped out of the cottage.

Severus blinked a few times and pondered bashing his head against the table. The girl was going to be the end of him. With a heavy sigh he walked over to the door to set his wards. It was probably high time to make some good memories of Halloween to replace the ones that had been haunting him for years.

* * *

  
Hermione Apparated to the sitting room and walked to her bedroom. There her legs finally gave out and she fell on her bed, her body thrumming with desire and her mind a whirlwind of happiness and confusion. She had been so sure that he would mock her, that he would retreat from their tentative friendship. Then she thought he was letting her down easy with that little kiss. But his eyes held so much promise. She groaned in frustration. She had wanted to see where their strange relationship was going and had found out that it was heading steadily down the slippery slope. Severus was a master at controlling his emotions, but she had overwhelming evidence. After all, she had found him asleep and snuggling her cloak, he had used that ointment on her lip instead of simply healing it and then he had actually kissed her and touched her. The problem was that she wanted more. Even though the kiss he gave her involved minimal skin contact, she could feel it as if it was branded on her lips. Just the thought of kissing him the day before, with all her senses thrumming with extra life force, made her whimper and clench her thighs. She hoped she wouldn't make a fool of herself on Wednesday. She wondered about his expression when she mentioned Halloween. He never seemed to enjoy any holiday, but still…Then it dawned on her, loud and clear. _Okay, Hermione, that was a world record of insensitivity. To commemorate the date when his best friend died in a horrible and violent way. Good job._ She pondered her options; apologizing about her unfortunate choice of date did not seem a good idea. He always became prickly when Lily was mentioned. Maybe she could claim she was occupied on Wednesday? After half an hour of tossing in bed, thinking of a solution, she suddenly sat up. No, she wouldn't let him roll in misery all alone. It has been years; it was time for him to let go, because Lily wasn't ever coming back. Thinking of what she knew about the woman, Hermione felt certain that she wouldn't want Severus to hurt like he did. With her new decision to carry on and act as if everything was fine, she managed to finally fall asleep.

* * *

  
On Monday morning a bleary-eyed Hermione bumped into Viktor in front of the bathroom.

'Did you kiss?' were the first words out of his mouth.

'No, we didn't!' _Not exactly…_

'That explains your sour mood. Get on with it, I have to shower too.' Hermione growled at him and stumbled on to the bathroom.

Her day was the usual whirl of lectures and brewing and she managed to keep her concentration…most of the time. Halloween was fast approaching and Hermione realized with surprise that at least the dressing-up and pumpkin-carving part of the holiday had been adopted by the younger generation. Viktor tried to convince her to go with him and his friends to a Muggle club that always had Halloween decorations and was located in an old stone basement, so it would 'feel just like Hogwarts'. Hermione refused to acknowledge a comparison between Hogwarts and any type of basement; then she reluctantly admitted that she was going out with Severus and he probably wouldn't appreciate a stuffy, noisy night club. Viktor laughed so hard that she felt compelled to pinch him.

On Tuesday, walking home from class, Hermione stopped short in front of a small shop and burst into laughter. There were all sorts of kitchenware displayed on the window and the thing that drew her eye was a set of cookie cutters. There was a pumpkin, a witch silhouette, a cat and a bat. Quickly she purchased them and called Mrs Krum to ask for a cookie recipe as soon as she was home. Viktor translated for his mother and looked at Hermione with confusion.

'What possessed you to bake cookies? You haven't gone near the oven since the pork roast disaster.'

Hermione whipped her new possession out of the shopping bag. Viktor seemed even more confused, but obediently looked at the proffered item. His eyes lingered on the bat silhouette and his eyes widened.

'You wouldn't dare.'

'Aw come on, what is he going to do? Bite me?'

The bad pun was the last straw and both Hermione and Viktor were laughing on the living room floor, gasping for breath.

'Oh, this is going to be simply priceless. I wish I could see his face.'

'Well…if he can't appreciate the humour, that's too bad.'

When Viktor woke up in the morning, he found Hermione sleeping at the kitchen table, her face smeared with flour and other ingredients. In front of her was a tray of perfect bat-shaped cookies. They had little raisins for eyes. Viktor shook her awake and sent her to the bathroom to prepare for class. Being a gentleman, he did not comment on the amount of ruined cookies residing in the garbage bin. He did value all his appendages.

* * *

  
Severus heard the flutter of wings and opened the window. A small screech-owl neatly deposited a package on the windowsill and hooted impatiently.

'There is some ham on the table, help yourself,' Severus snapped at the bird and stared at the package. His name was written there in Hermione's neat script. He tore the paper and found a note with detailed directions to her flat. Underneath the note was a small box. He opened it. He stared. He blinked a few times and looked again, in case he had been wrong. Finally he took out one cookie and studied it carefully. The raisins were what did him in. Several small birds picking seed off the ground scattered in alarm from the booming laughter that issued from the cottage.

When he finally composed himself, he twirled his wand while staring down an innocent cookie. Finally inspiration dawned and with several flicks the cookie changed shape. He considered sending it via the owl, but decided to give it in person. Instead he penned a short note and tied it to the bird's leg. He closed the window and sat back on the table, drinking coffee and munching on cookies. They were definitely not the best he had tasted, but the thought that Hermione had made them for him made him feel embarrassingly warm on the inside.

* * *

  
In the evening, Hermione got back to the flat and found Viktor in a bear suit munching on a sandwich, and a note waiting for her on the table.

_'I'll be there at seven and I shall remind you which word rhymes with "bat", you cheeky woman!'_

He didn't seem angry at the joke, but it would be too much to expect that he wouldn't retaliate. Rereading the note one last time, she grinned and put it away. _"Woman", not "girl"._

Viktor eyed wistfully the note disappearing in her pocket, so she took mercy on him.

'He'll be here in an hour and the note wasn't cursed, so I suppose it went well. I'm going to shower. Be a good boy and think of a nice restaurant or something.'

Hermione grabbed her best hair care products and marched off into the bathroom. After bathing, she pondered what to wear. She didn't know what kind of establishment Viktor would recommend, but she knew that Severus would manage to blend in anywhere if he wore his now usual ensemble of black trousers and white shirt. She pursed her lips and took out her favourite indigo blue jeans. She didn't need a talking mirror to see that they made her legs seem longer and the bell bottoms made her hips smaller. She pulled on a dark green, long-sleeved tunic and smiled at her reflection. Perfect. Nothing too revealing, yet the green was a nice compliment to his House colors. She caressed the silver necklace from her parents and left the room.

The sight in the living room stopped her in her tracks. Apparently Severus was early and he was sitting on an armchair, chatting easily with Viktor despite the horrendous bear suit. He was in fact wearing his usual black and white, but his hair wasn't tied and was flowing freely down his back. Hermione's mouth went dry. She still couldn't get used to the change between the lank hair that framed his face at Hogwarts and the shiny clean locks he sported now.

Viktor saw her first and stood up, valiantly trying to hide his amusement. She blushed, chagrined that he had caught her staring. Severus turned around and her blush deepened at the appreciative glint in his eyes. Somehow, she felt the chances of getting a proper kiss soar into the stratosphere.

'Hermione, you look lovely.' He stood up and leaned in to kiss her cheek. _Stratosphere? We are talking open space here!_

'Thank you. So do you.'

He reached into his pocket and removed a small parcel.

'Thank you for the gift, I enjoyed it. Here is a small token, just to return the gesture.' His eyes were sparkling and she took the bundle with apprehension. Unwrapping the tissue paper, she stared and burst into peals of laughter. On the palm of her hand was a single cookie, shaped like a girl with a cat's head. Severus was sniggering himself and only Viktor stared in confusion at both of them.

'Okay, I get the bat reference. What's up with the cat?'

Hermione still couldn't catch her breath, so Severus answered.

'Mr Krum, what happened when instead of a human hair, an animal hair is added to Polyjuice Potion?'

'Well, the results are unpredictable, because it's not meant to be used for human to animal transformation…' Viktor trailed off. 'Hermione, what exactly did you turn yourself into?'

She just held up the cookie as an illustration, not trusting her voice.

'Let's not forget you also had a rather nice tail, Hermione.'

Her indignant answer was drowned by a knock on the door and Viktor's date arrived in all her dark-haired glory, dressed as a pirate. While Viktor went to greet the girl, Severus leaned in and whispered in Hermione's ear.

'You neglected to tell me that you share a flat with Mr Krum.'

Hermione's eyes widened and she turned to him.

'Oh, I'm sorry. You didn't think we were…'

'I might have, but he called me 'Katya' when he opened the door. He looked disappointed when he saw it was me, apparently he was expecting his date.' He smirked and directed his attention to Viktor, who was introducing the girl; her name was indeed Katya. In her red shirt and tight breeches, complete with fake sword in a scabbard, the girl looked stunning. Hermione felt a stab of general jealousy, but Severus did not spare her a second glance and Katya seemed to have eyes only for Viktor.

'Hermione, look here.' Viktor pointed to the table. 'I marked several restaurants on this map. All of them are good and close enough to walk. We have to be going, because I have to meet some people there. Are you sure you won't reconsider?'

'Reconsider what?' Severus' smooth voice interrupted.

'We are going to a Muggle night club, sir. I asked Hermione if you two wanted to come along, because it always has Halloween decorations and…well, it would be nice.'

Severus rubbed his chin and looked at Hermione.

'It could be interesting. I haven't been to a club in more than a decade. Hermione, are you feeling adventurous?'

'I don't mind.' _As long as I'm with you._ 'I'll take the map, in case we don't like it. And I am not dressing up as anything, Viktor, least of all a witch!'

Viktor raised his hands in defeat and motioned to the door.

'Let's go then.'

* * *

  
The club was a few blocks away, a small nondescript house with a barely visible wooden sign. Viktor pushed the door open and they descended to the basement level. They ended up in a large room. The ceiling was at least five meters high and a rickety staircase led to a wooden platform forming a second level of tables. There were pumpkin lanterns hanging everywhere and, together with a myriad of tea candles, they provided the only illumination. The music was subdued, the patrons were talking quietly and there was a large open space between the tables and the bar. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief; she was expecting something much more crowded and noisy, with neon lights and ear-splitting music. A soft laugh behind her made her turn around. Severus was perusing the surroundings with genuine interest.

'If someone told me this was a Wizarding bar, I would have been fooled for a moment before I saw the Muggle drinks. It seems rather pleasant, actually.' They settled at a small table, while Viktor went to greet his friends and show off Katya.

'Would you like something to drink?' Severus asked.

'Maybe just a glass of orange juice. I don't feel like drinking tonight.' She could swear his eyes flashed in the dark before he strode off towards the bar. Apparently he had no problems communicating with the barmaid, who seemed much too friendly in Hermione's opinion. Soon he was back at the table with orange juice for both of them.

'I don't feel like drinking either,' he said and Hermione felt her insides squirm. The rules were set; whatever happened between them, they would both be stone cold sober. No more excuses.

* * *

  
Severus watched the effects of his words on Hermione and suppressed a smirk. She looked lovely when she blushed and she seemed to do so quite often during the last few days. He was glad that they hadn't gone to a restaurant; dinner was such a formal affair and here they could just sit in the semi-darkness, sip their drinks and talk. The place was much more pleasant than he had expected; the music wasn't deafening and they actually played a lot of the things he used to listen to as a youth, before his father smashed his old record player against the wall. He frowned slightly and chased away the memory. Thinking of his father was definitely counterproductive to spending a pleasant evening, as well as the fact that he had been listening to this music before Hermione was even born. He saw her look at him and gave her a little smile.

'Mr Krum seems to have abandoned us.'

Hermione glanced aside to where Viktor was standing with his arm around Katya's waist, chatting with several boys she vaguely knew.

'He doesn't have much time to spend with his friends and he sees me every day. Besides, he would want to give us privacy, in case we want to talk about our…research.'

Severus felt warmth at the thought that she considered it "their" research.

'I don't think that would be wise. I understand that there are magical folk who frequent this place. We can talk the next time you visit.'

'As soon as I can, then,' Hermione beamed at him. Her enthusiasm was touching and he hoped that it was not solely related to research. He realized then that the goal which had been driving him for the last several months had stepped down to second place in the list of his priorities. For quite some time, the first and foremost thing occupying his thoughts had been Hermione. He could hear Vesna's gentle laughter in his mind. _Well, old woman, isn't that what you wanted? If it all goes pear-shaped and she runs off with some young handsome lad, you are the one who will have to put me back together._ Severus once again brushed off the maudlin thoughts and cast a non-verbal _Muffliato_ under the table.

'Well, what did George choose to torture you with today?'

After half an hour they were so immersed in conversation that they barely paid attention to Viktor, who had come to check on them. He couldn't distinguish a single word though the bubble of the_ Muffliato,_ but one look at Hermione's animated face and the intense look in Snape's eyes told him all he needed to know. He shook his head in amusement and returned to Katya.

Sometime later, Severus was in the middle of pulverizing a theory, which Hermione supported with a vengeance probably just to get a rise out of him, when he was rudely interrupted by a loud cough. He glared at the intruder, only to realize that it was Krum.

'I'm sorry to disturb you, but we are leaving and I just wanted to let you know. So, um…bye, sir. Hermione, I won't be going home tonight.' He grinned sheepishly and glanced at Katya.

Hermione flashed an amused look at her friend and waved him off.

'Go on, have a good time.'

Severus looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was already after midnight.

'Hermione, maybe we'd better leave too. You have classes tomorrow.'

She also glanced at the clock and made a face.

'Right, classes. I kind of forgot.'

They stood up and left the club. The air outside was chilling and cold gusts of wind were chasing dark clouds in the sky. Severus looked around to make sure they were alone and cast a quick warming charm on both of them.

'So, how are you going to get home?'

'I planned on walking…it's not very far.'

Severus chose not to comment on the freezing wind and offered his arm.

Walking with her was a pleasure. He liked the way she edged closer to him when the wind blew harder. At one particularly vicious gust of cold air, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her snugly to his side. Apparently she didn't mind, because she only sighed contently and wiggled even closer. He reveled in the feeling of this woman who didn't recoil from his touch. He wanted to protect her; suddenly the idea of letting her go when they reached her flat seemed impossible. However, they couldn't linger because of the cold and sooner than he would have liked they reached the building. Hermione finally looked at him and he saw that her lips were turning blue. Severus cursed himself for not reinforcing the warming charm and went for his wand, but thought better of it. Slowly, he unbuttoned his coat and held it open. Accepting the invitation, she wrapped her arms around his waist and burrowed her nose in his shirt, while he closed the coat as well as he could to keep her warm. He inhaled the scent of her hair and wished they could stay like that forever.

'You are so warm.' Her voice was muffled by his shirt.

'You smell delicious,' was all he managed to reply.

She slowly raised her face and he knew that it was now or never and he had to try, no matter what happened. He lowered his mouth and kissed her cold lips, at first slowly, giving her time to pull back, to say 'no'. But she wasn't pulling back and her mouth was soft and pliant and she was pressing into him, whimpering back in her throat, the sound he had been trying to erase from his mind, the sound that had been haunting him as he spent himself in his hand in his lonely narrow bed the night before. So he let go and kissed her with the desperation of a starving man, and she returned the kiss if not with skill, with great enthusiasm. He squeezed her to his chest while her tongue explored his mouth curiously, and she tasted divine and he wanted more.

At some point they had to break apart and breathe. Hermione buried her face in his shirt again and for one horrible moment he thought he had scared her.

'I'm not very good at this,' she murmured and he had to chuckle from relief.

'Why don't you let me be a judge of that?' He leant in for another kiss and lost himself in her warmth until a vicious gust of wind made them both shiver.

She pulled away and whispered.

'Please come upstairs. Just for a bit, it's freezing out here.'

After a moment of hesitation, he nodded.

'Yes, just for a bit.'

* * *

** A/N:** Okay, guys, that was the last chapter I had ready. From now on, it all depends on my muse and what RL decides to throw my way. I can't write right now, because my computer needs repairs and I'm working on a tiny laptop with a busted keyboard. I't no fun writing a whole paragraph just to see that half the letters are missing. I hope I will have my computer back by the middle of the week.

Thanks for all the lovely reviews!

Oh, and last but not least, this chapter's title belongs to **Garbage.**


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